


Like violence, you had me

by lazarusthefirst



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Pro team au, Romance, Violence, mentions of performance enhancement drug use, the big three are all in the same city for reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 46,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7181393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarusthefirst/pseuds/lazarusthefirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘I’m not bratty,’ Kevin retorted. He was holding hands with Thea and somehow still managed to pull off a convincing glare even though his outfit was colour-coordinated with hers. ‘I don’t care if they don’t all want to talk about Exy. I do have other interests.’<br/>‘Name one,’ Jean replied, bored.<br/>‘Don’t tease him, Jean,’ Thea smirked, tugging Kevin up the path. ‘Oh look, he has a doormat. How suburban.’</p><p>au were everything is more or less the same except the Trojans, Ravens, and Foxes are all pro teams in the same city</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this in two weeks, then tore out the ending and spent another 4 months rewriting it. This is some sappy romance right here let me tell you

Professional athletes threw the worst parties, Jean thought. He probably wouldn’t do a very good job at it either, but as he followed his teammates up the cobblestone drive to the house with music and light bursting from it he couldn’t help thinking that Exy players especially seemed to oscillate between “meat and two veg and bed before ten”, and “I’ve been wound so tight all my life I don’t know how to not flip a table when I drink.”

So when the three biggest Exy teams in the district plus assorted hangers on and friends all got together, things tended to get messy. The Ravens competed for local fans with the Foxes and the Trojans, which generally just depended on your taste in Exy as all three teams were located within the same fifty mile radius. The Ravens, a new team new to the district due to a change of stadium, were supported by the most die hard sports fans, the ones who sought the most clinical and ruthlessly efficient teams to throw their weight behind. They didn’t play up to the cameras like the Trojans did, nor did they have the scrappy attitudes and relentless runt-of-the-litter appeal of the Foxes. Or a really bratty striker that got accidentally famous by being the best player in the game or whatever. 

‘I’m not bratty,’ Kevin retorted. He was holding hands with Jean’s teammate Thea and somehow still managed to pull off a convincing glare even though his outfit was colour-coordinated with hers. ‘I don’t _care_ if they don’t all want to talk about Exy. I do have other interests.’

‘Name one,’ Jean replied, bored. 

‘Don’t tease him, Jean,’ Thea smirked, tugging Kevin up the path. ‘Oh look, he has a doormat. How suburban.’

Kevin’s move to the Foxes after only a season with the Ravens had certainly ruffled some feathers, but privately Kevin thought it was a good move for him. Jean would probably move too, if he could. 

‘Who lives here again?’ he asked, squinting around through the fog of smoke billowing around the entrance. Bodies parted for them, which was par for the course when Thea was leading the way.

‘Jeremy Knox,’ Kevin reminded him, a tad reproachful. Kevin had had his reasons for transferring to the Foxes but Jean knew he slept in a Trojan sweater at night. ‘USC’s offensive dealer and captain. Have you met him off the Court before? I’ll introduce you.’

‘It’s fine,’ Jeremy said, making a face. People were already swarming them, calling out greetings and offering drinks. Jean accepted one and nodded to a few people he knew, already wondering if he could get drunk enough to not be bored before he actually got too bored to drink. 

Exy seasons were always bookended by parties thrown by the winners. The Trojans had narrowly beaten the Foxes at the end of last season, a fact not lost on Kevin, who was already chasing down his Foxes to make sure they weren’t fighting or getting too wasted. That was usually Dan Wilds’ job, but she was dancing on a table with her boyfriend Matt Boyd and a Trojan girl. Jean could see Allison Reynolds and one of the Minyards doing shots from eggcups through the kitchen, and in the hallway Kevin was already laying into his striker Neil Josten, who had a hand on his boyfriend’s chest to stop him shoving Kevin out of Neil’s face. Jean rolled his eyes. They were the most dramatic team in the league; if Kevin didn’t start a fight in the first twenty minutes, it would be one of the Minyards or Neil, guaranteed. 

‘Jean.’ A musical voice at his elbow directed his attention left to Renee Walker, the Foxes’ second keeper. Jean didn’t quite know how he’d stumbled into a friendship with her, but she was one of those conversationalists that made you want to stick around to hear more. Somehow, she seemed to like Jean. 

‘Hey,’ he nodded. ‘Kevin’s still taking last summer personally then?’

Renee smiled wryly, shaking her head. ‘Even Dan and Neil recovered quicker than he did. There’s a lot of money on whether he’d even show up tonight to face the man who broke his heart.

Jean snorted. Only Kevin could take the loss of one championship - out of literally half a dozen - so seriously. ‘I wonder if he threw the sweater out,’ he said.

‘What?’ asked Renee.

‘Uh, nothing.’ The sweater was a total secret. Jean only knew because they’d lived together for a while when they were first starting out in the Pros. As much as Kevin Day could have a best friend, Jean supposed it was him.

Jean had never met Jeremy Knox personally, but he’d seen enough of him at parties and on the court to have known this was his house without even being told. It was full of things like framed and signed Exy posters, little ceramic pots that said “sugar” and “salt”, a dog leash hanging up by the back door, bowls of fruit and vegetables, and hundreds of photos of smiling friends and family. The Trojans had a reputation for having the best attitude and spirit of all the Pro Exy teams, and Jeremy “Captain Fantastic” Knox was such a good boy that he - 

‘Jean?’ Renee interrupted his train of thought that was admittedly going nowhere. ‘Are you gonna drink that or just grip it?’

Jean looked down at his drink, and knocked it back after a moment’s consideration. He might as well get started. 

‘Is Riko here?’ Renee asked, as they made their way through the wide open hallway at the entrance of the house, Jean seeking the drinks. He snorted at her question. 

‘He will be,’ he said. Riko always liked to intimidate where possible, and fuck shit up where he couldn’t. The Trojans were never too bothered by him.

‘I still haven’t met him,’ Renee admitted, squeezing past a broad pair of shoulders. She was wearing a rainbow-striped crop top and jeans that hugged her just below her belly button. Her short, pale hair was lightly waved and the tips were dyed their usual variety of pastel colours. 

‘He’s no big deal,’ Jean lied, looking around and spotting bottles. 

Renee poured them shots of Sambuca and lit the tops on fire with a silver lighter. Renee rarely drank, but she and Jean had a tradition of a single shot to start the night. Jean lit a cigarette afterwards and angled his head towards the open window even though people were freely smoking around him. He only smoked when he was aiming to get drunk, and was genuinely surprised Jeremy allowed it in his house. He probably had bumper stickers for lung cancer charities.

‘Renee!’

A cheerful voice drew Jean’s attention to where Renee was being hugged by a tall man with dark brown hair and dimples. Jean blinked and looked again. 

‘Jeremy,’ Renee smiled, holding him at arms length. ‘Kevin hasn’t killed you in a confused crime of passion yet?’

‘I’m entirely confident that the power of Kevin’s love would save us both in the end,’ Jeremy said seriously, but with a twinkle in his brown eyes. His gaze drifted up to where Jean was staring at him, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

‘Hi,’ he said, smile widening. He extended a hand around Renee. ‘You’re Jean, right?’

Jean was suddenly finding it very difficult to talk, so he just nodded and shook Jeremy’s hand. Jeremy looked like he was going to say something else but then someone grabbed his shoulder and started pulling at him, shouts and laughter spilling in from the garden as the back door opened.

‘I’ll catch you both later,’ Jeremy called, as he was being dragged away. ‘Welcome, and have a good night!’

Renee waved goodbye and Jean reached for the drinks again and tried to banish the after image of staring too hard at the sun, good _Christ_ Jeremy was attractive. 

But Jean hadn’t seen Riko yet so the evening was still going better than expected. He left Renee when Allison Reynolds showed up looking annoyed and talking loudly about a money bet. He found Aaron Minyard in the backyard, holding hands with his beautiful girlfriend who was chatting excitedly to the Trojan keeper, Laila. Aaron looked fairly bored but seemed happy enough to hold Katelyn’s hand while she socialised, nodding and smiling when called upon. Jean took his cup and poured him a new drink, earning himself a grateful nod. 

He and Aaron had found themselves in this situation at parties several times in the past, and shared a certain attitude of “I tolerate you”, which was more than Jean could say about his brother. All because he’d helped Riko kick Neil’s ass that one time. He hadn’t even touched him, not really. Just held his arms while Riko punched. Jean took a sip of his drink and caught Neil’s eye across the garden. He was speaking to one of the newer Foxes that Jean had not yet met, but he nodded tersely at Jean. Andrew was pressed up close to him as usual and thankfully hadn’t seen Jean. He wasn’t sure what exactly Kevin had told the Foxes to make them back off Jean after that incident and he figured it was a few shades lighter than the truth, but it was one of the reasons Jean still made time for Kevin Day, no matter how bratty he got. 

‘Get that new backliner yet?’ Aaron asked over the rim of his cup.

‘Yep,’ Jean replied, offering him a cigarette. Aaron took one and was instantly presented with a light by Katelyn’s friend. ’Signed last week.’

‘Finally. Arizona?’

‘Yeah, Phoenix.’

‘Cool. Already trained in the heat.’

‘Exactly.’

Their conversations were never more vocal than this, and it was profoundly relaxing for Jean. He drifted away after a while, as Katelyn claimed Aaron’s attention again. He filtered through the house, shaking a few hands and stopping to talk here and there, but the music was so loud and he kept turning his head, subconsciously trying to spot those bright eyes and dimples again. Unsurprisingly, Jeremy was entirely caught up in hosting the party. Every time Jeremy saw him he was engaged in animated conversation with a new friend, and Jean, largely friendless, thought mean things like _vapid_ , _trivial_ , and _frivolous_ , as he headed up the stairs.

He skirted Nicky Hemmick, who was sitting on the middle landing and seemed to be instructing two Trojan girls and - Jean squinted - was that Edwards, the aforementioned new Raven backliner? - on how to give really good head, and reached the top floor of the house. Typically, there were more framed posters and photographs detailing Jeremy’s wildly outgoing life and career. There seemed to be a different friend in every photo, and how had he managed to get complete signed jerseys of literally every Pro team in the country? He probably just smiled in their general direction or something. 

The music made the floor beneath Jean’s feet shake, and he tapped his finger against his cup in time to it. Nevertheless it was more muffled upstairs, so when he passed a door that appeared to be whining, it made him pause. 

He opened the door, just for something to do. A large furry shape instantly tried to slip past him, but Jean stuck his leg into the gap just in time.

‘No, no,’ he said hurriedly, pushing the dog back into the room and slipping in after it. ‘Back.’

The dog was ecstatic, in usual dog fashion. It was whining excitedly and dropping to the floor for a belly rub before Jean could get the light on. Jean was crouching down to provide the belly rub before he knew it, and reflected on the weird power of dogs to get you to act like a complete idiot for a few moments until the dog calmed down. He stroked the dogs soft yellow fur until she scrambled up and rushed him, sending him backwards on to his ass.

‘You don’t like the music?’ he asked, as the dog plonked its head into Jean’s lap, big brown eyes staring up at him adoringly. ‘Me neither. No you can’t drink that, it’s mine. Bad for you. Yeah ok, lick my hand.’ 

He looked around, realising with a start that he was clearly in Jeremy’s bedroom. It was, surprisingly, nothing like what he’d come to expect judging by the rest of his house. The colours were muted and soft, eggshell whites and pale greens and blues, with almost nothing on the walls apart from his college degree and a few framed photos. Jean squinted; they looked less Exy related and more childhood at the beach. He glanced away, realising he was intruding. 

‘I shouldn’t be in here,’ he told the dog. He rummaged around in her thick fur for her collar, and rolled his eyes at the name tag. ‘Buttercup?’

The dog gave a bark of recognition, and Jean hurriedly shushed her. His heart leapt as the door opened, and he grabbed the dog’s collar to stop her rushing forward. 

‘Hey!’ Jeremy let himself into the room with a smile. ‘You found a friend.’

‘Uh,’ Jean replied brilliantly, releasing the dog. ‘Me or her?’ 

Buttercup sprang forward joyously to greet Jeremy, who immediately dropped to his knees and let the dog jump all over him. He grabbed her face with his hands and grinned. ‘Heyyyyy. What’s up, Buttercup?’ He winked at Jean. ‘And both of you, I guess.’ He rubbed Buttercup’s neck vigorously as she started to relax again. ’Buttercup’s why I don’t throw parties more than once a year. She’s a rescue dog, hates noise. Gotta check on her a lot.’

Of course Jeremy Knox owns a rescue dog. Jean became painfully aware that he was still sitting on Jeremy’s bedroom floor. ‘Sorry, I heard her whining - ‘

 He started to get up, but Jeremy quickly motioned him back down. ‘No, it’s fine, I mean are you kidding? She loves the company.’

‘Ok,’ Jean said awkwardly, lowering himself back down. The rug beneath them was soft, and Buttercup sat happily between them, wagging her tail.

‘Too noisy for you too?’ Jeremy teased, but there was something sincere about his smile that left Jean feeling less offended and more charmed than he’d expected. 

‘I was just wandering around,’ Jean said, taking a drink just for something to do with his hands. ‘Didn’t mean to intrude.’

‘No man, it’s cool,’ said Jeremy, shaking his head. ‘I like parties and all but hosting is just so much sometimes, you know?’

Jean didn’t know, but he nodded anyways.

‘But no one’s started a fire yet and I made Neil promise to stay away from the Ravens so that Andrew doesn’t murder anyone, so I felt ok about coming up to check on my hairy child,’ Jeremy continued, rubbing Buttercup’s head affectionately. ‘Man, I’m tired. I hope they all go home soon. No offence.’

Jean smiled a little, liking Jeremy more and more. ‘None taken. You want me to go?’

‘No, stay,’ Jeremy said quickly, smiling at him. ‘You’re very peaceful.’

Jeremy was clearly a little drunk, but then so was Jean, so he didn’t feel too bad about staying. He could chalk it up to inebriation and not have to explain a thing to Riko in the morning. 

Speaking of …

‘Uh, many other Ravens down there?’ he asked, trying to sound casual. He reached out a hand and stroked Buttercup’s head.

‘Handful, maybe eight or nine,’ Jeremy said easily, checking his phone quickly before laying it on the rug beside him. ‘Riko Moriyama’s not here yet.’

He didn’t even say it weird - unsurprisingly, Jeremy was too nice to comment on the strange nature of Riko and Jean’s relationship that was gossip to practically everyone - but Jean knew he must be thinking it. He nodded, glancing away.

‘Your room is very different to the rest of your house,’ he said, wincing at his own tone. He was making small-talk, and he knew his accent sounded worse when he was uncomfortable like this. House probably came out like ‘ouse. Riko would…

‘Yeah, I never really understood the whole fengshui thing,’ admitted Jeremy, skating right over the awkwardness of Jean’s tone. ‘But like, I couldn’t sleep in a room that’s full of stuff, you know? That’s what the house is for, that’s where I live. My room at college was, like, all hectic with posters and colour and clutter, and I hardly got a decent night’s sleep like ever.’ He waved his arms at the walls a little, and Buttercup danced eagerly, thinking there was a game coming. ‘This is way better,’ he said, sounding satisfied. He tugged Buttercup to him to get her to settle. ‘I can sleep in here.’

Jean couldn’t help thinking it was very like his own room. But only because Jean didn’t really own many things. 

‘It’s nice,’ he said. ‘I almost didn’t come tonight,’ he added, unthinking. 

‘Why not?’

Jean felt like he could not answer Jeremy, and it would be ok. He wouldn’t go back to his friends and comment on it. Somehow, that made Jean want to answer honestly, despite how literally unfounded this assumption was.

‘Any night I can avoid Riko is a night to be taken advantage of,’ he muttered, talking to the dog rather than to Jeremy. ‘But I promised Kevin.’

Jeremy smiled. ‘And you like Kevin.’

Jean looked at him. ‘Kevin’s a bitch,’ he said honestly, and Jeremy burst out laughing. It startled Jean but not Buttercup, who was clearly used to that. Oh, there were the dimples again. What a disaster, thought Jean. 

‘Aw, poor Kevin,’ Jeremy chuckled, smile still stretching his face. He had very nice teeth. ‘But you came anyways?’

‘Yeah,’ said Jean wryly, rolling his eyes. ‘It can be fun to tell Kevin no, but I don’t mind cutting him some slack. Figured he’d need the support tonight.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Ah, because of the whole …’ he trailed off, cocking an eyebrow. 

Jean nodded. ‘Have you spoken to him tonight?’

‘Not really. Just waved when he came in. Haven’t made my way over yet.’

‘Sure. Uh, maybe don’t,’ Jean said. ‘It’s fine, he won’t hit you or anything, but it’d be a shame to have a grown man stress-cry in the middle of your party.’

Jeremy threw back his head and laughed again, and this time Jean laughed with him. It was infectious, Jeremy’s laugh, his humour physically catching on the edges of Jean’s temper and softening them. 

‘Oh man,’ Jeremy said, recovering. ‘He needs to unwind.’

‘More like unclench.’

Jeremy snorted again, eyes screwing up, and Jean realised he was enjoying himself very much. 

‘We had such a lovely relationship,’ Jeremy murmured, as Jean offered him a drink. He took it and drank a solid half before handing it back. ‘Thanks. No, Butters, not for you. I mean, it was a rivalry, obviously, but Kevin never really let it affect him.’

‘As long as it was a fair game,’ Jean pointed out. 

Jeremy frowned, the first crease in his good humour so far. ‘He doesn’t think it was fair?’ he asked, a tone of polite incredulity that made Jean smile. He shrugged expansively at him. 

‘It’s hard to say,’ he hedged. ‘He claims - privately, I mean - you can’t tell him any of this by the way.’

‘No, no, I won’t.’

‘Seriously.’

‘I’m serious, I won’t.’

‘Ok. Promise?’

‘Jean,’ laughed Jeremy, eyes twinkling, and Jean was momentarily stumped by the sound of his name mingled with the warm laughter in Jeremy’s voice. ‘I promise.’

‘Ok,’ Jean said, after a slight pause. ‘Kevin thinks Riko was off his game in the semis.’

Jeremy paused, frowning as he tried to make sense of that. ‘Wait, he thinks … that they should have had to work harder to get to the final or something?’

‘Kind of,’ said Jean. ‘He thinks that the game against us was way too easy, and that they went into the finals with you too cocky, and didn’t “bring it” or whatever.’ That was only half true. Jean wasn’t sure if Kevin was more furious that he had to lose to his hero or miss the chance to crush his rival in a proper game where Riko was at his best, but the two issues seemed to have compounded into a very confusing resentment towards the whole situation. ‘I told him it’s bad luck to start the season holding on to the remains of the last, but Kevin’s rarely in the listening mood these days.’

‘I see,’ Jeremy said, sounding sober. ‘So losing to us in the final …’

‘Shouldn’t have happened,’ finished Jean. ‘They went in thinking better of themselves than they should. That’s how he rationalises it. And you took them by surprise.’

Jeremy shrugged and smirked at him, good humour abruptly restored. ‘Well, I mean,’ he said, holding out his hand for the drink. ‘We’re pretty good, not gonna lie.’

Jean just shrugged. ‘Debatable.’

Jeremy raised his eyebrows, already grinning in amusement. ‘Oh yeah. Got something to say, Moreau?’

Jean shrugged again. ‘I’ve just seen better backliners.’

‘Talking about yourself?’

‘Of course I’m talking about myself.’

Jeremy smirked and leaned back, hand in Buttercup’s fur. ‘This from the guy who let Neil Josten run rings around him in the semis?’

Jean hesitated. Of course a technical-minded player like Jeremy would have noticed that. He hadn’t done it out of a misplaced sense of guilt for hurting Neil the year before - he and Neil had hashed that out with Kevin already - but it turned out that Neil was just fast enough that Jean could make the whole thing look incredible on Neil’s part and “outplayed” on Jean’s. 

‘Noticed that, huh?’ muttered Jean, wondering if anyone else was talking about it. He didn’t really mind his reputation taking a hit - it was Neil, after all, the fastest player in the game, and he’d more than make it up when the season started again - but if speculation got too loud he could be in a lot of trouble.

Jeremy leaned forward, looking very interested. ‘Listen, I’m not saying anything. But I watched that game like fifteen times before we played the Foxes. Neil’s really good, but I think you stopped trying about ten minutes before you were subbed. And you were at fault for his fourth point.’

Jean hesitated before taking another drink instead of answering. They were rapidly running out of alcohol, and this was a conversation required it.

‘Maybe I stopped caring.’

Jeremy shook his head. ‘No one who’s as good as you doesn’t care.’

Jean snorted. ‘I’ve heard that before.’

‘So you stopped caring about winning last year? I don’t believe that either.’

Jean shrugged. ‘Believe what you like,’ he said. ‘But don’t - Jeremy, don’t tell anyone I threw the game, or anything.’

Jeremy actually looked offended. ‘I’d never,’ he said, seriously. Then he leaned in a little. ‘But did you though?’

He looked so intent that Jean actually responded honestly. ‘No,’ he protested. ‘I mean, not really. Fuck.’ He couldn’t believe he was admitting this. ‘I didn’t throw the game. I just … let Neil get around me a little more than he probably should have. I don’t know, it was a difficult game. I hardly remember it.’

Jeremy was full on examining his face now. ‘Riko was off, that night,’ he said slowly. ‘I thought so too at the time, but just chalked it up to his attitude with Kevin and Neil affecting his game. I was happy to see the Foxes beat you guys - no offence. Kevin’s a friend.’ He frowned, looking a little down. ‘Sucks that he didn’t come to the game with us with a clear head,’ he admitted. ‘I feel kind of bad now.’

‘Don’t,’ insisted Jean, wondering wildly how the conversation had spiralled into this admission. ‘Honestly. This has everything to do with Riko and nothing to do with you. Kevin’s been crying into a jersey with your name on it ever since. He’s furious with himself that he didn’t bring his A game to the finals, because he respects you all too much to bring anything less. He’s a giant baby but he’ll get over it, honestly.’ 

Jean was literally saying anything he could to bring the smile back to Jeremy’s face, but although his lips quirked in amusement his expression settled on thoughtful.

‘But if I saw that,’ he pointed out, ‘then surely Kevin saw it too?’

‘Saw what?’

’That you, you know.’

Jean snorted softly. ‘Oh yeah, he knows. Neil probably called it by half time.’

‘So how come …?’

‘How come I wasn’t floating upstream later that night, you mean?’

Jeremy grinned, and nodded. ‘Well, yeah.’

Jean rubbed Buttercup’s head. She was sleeping between them now, lulled by the sounds of their voices. 

‘Like I said,’ he told Jeremy. ‘This was about Riko. Kevin and I go way back - I didn’t have to explain it to him.’ Kevin also knew that Jean had done it specifically so Riko didn’t kill Kevin on the court, but Jeremy didn’t need to know that. 

Jeremy nodded quickly. ‘Sorry, yeah, you don’t have to explain it to me either.’

Jean didn’t actually understand what he meant for a moment. ‘No, I didn’t mean - Jeremy, I meant that Kevin knew why I did it. It’s - look, it’s boring and dramatic. It’s not worth talking about.’

Jeremy looked like he disagreed, but he didn’t press the issue. 

‘Well, at least this explains why Kevin’s been sending me tortured looks across the room,’ he said breezily, rolling the empty cup across the rug. ‘We should probably hug it out.’

‘But you know nothing,’ Jean warned him, pointing with his finger.

‘I know nothing,’ Jeremy agreed with a soft smile. He caught Jean’s finger and lowered it. Their hands touched the rug and Jeremy let his fingers rest on Jean’s, and maybe they were both drunk but it felt really nice, and Jean’s heart was suddenly going ninety. Jeremy was still smiling at him.

A thundering crash shook the floor beneath them, and the moment shattered like glass. The crash was followed by a roar and several shrieks, and they both sprang to their feet. Buttercup fled to hide under the bed, and Jeremy let her go. 

‘Well, that sounded like my table,’ he said, flinging open the bedroom door. Jean darted out after him and shut the door; Jeremy hadn’t waited. He followed him down the hall to the stairs, where there was a queue of people lining up to find out what was going on. Jeremy bypassed them all by virtue of being Jeremy, and Jean would have hung back only he found his wrist being snagged. It’s nice to be included, thought Jean in a daze, his skin going hot under Jeremy’s tight grip.

The scene of chaos was the kitchen, where Jeremy’s table was indeed on its side. Jean’s eyes immediately found Neil, who was standing across the room with one hand on Andrew’s arm, who looked slightly agitated. Aaron was on his other side, looking amused, so that was three out of four troublemakers accounted for. 

‘Neil?’ Jeremy said, looking confused. ‘What’s - ’

‘I told you we wouldn’t cause trouble,’ Neil said, looking more bothered by the accusation than by the ruckus. He nodded out to the garden; people were filing out the back door, talking excitedly. ‘They’re out there.’

‘Who?’

Neil rolled his eyes. ‘Who do you think?’ He glanced at Jean meaningfully. 

Jean cursed in French and pushed past Jeremy and the crowds of people at the door, furious at himself for not seeing this coming, for not warning Thea. 

Out on the lawn, Riko and Kevin were at each other’s throats. Jean’s instinct was to go for Kevin, but he fought that urge and moved towards Riko, who currently had Kevin pinned to the ground and was struggling to get his hands around his throat. Matt and Nicky were hovering anxiously, but they were clearly loathe to touch Riko.

Jean had no such reservations. He waded through the bodies and into the space cleared for the fight. There would be no prising Riko’s grip from Kevin’s throat, so he did the next best thing and tackled him from the side. They rolled and hit the ground hard, and Kevin got dragged along for some of it but Riko ended up releasing him in favour of punching Jean in the mouth. Pain exploded in his mouth and he tasted blood, but had enough strength to roll them again and pin Riko’s arms to the ground. Riko spat up at him, face bloodied and eyes murderous, but Jean hissed at him in Japanese to stay the fuck down. He probably could have gotten through to him if Kevin hadn’t been so goddamn set on causing a murder. He shoved his shoulder into Jean and knocked him clean off Riko, and resumed his attack as Jean rolled, trying to get his breath back.

He struggled to his feet in time to see Jeremy disappearing back into the crowd. Hopefully he’d come back with a basin of ice water, he thought, as he tried to shove Kevin off Riko. A hand on his shoulder made him pause, and then Andrew was there. Jean backed up quickly just in time to see Andrew grab a fistful of Kevin’s hair and punch him solidly in the face. Kevin shouted in pain and released Riko briefly, raising his hand to fend Andrew off. Andrew dodged the swipe and grabbed Kevin’s forearm, hauling him to his feet and then, incredibly, flipping him over his shoulder to land squarely on his back on the ground. The breath was knocked out of Kevin in a rush and he finally lay still, dazed and struggling to breathe. Andrew looked only slightly inconvenienced. 

‘He’s probably concussed,’he informed Dan, who’d appeared at his side, expression twisted with concern and exasperation. ‘You can sort that out.’ Then he turned and walked back to Neil, who kissed him on the cheek and said something quietly to him. Aaron was laughing silently, shoulders shaking. 

Jean tore his gaze away from the exchange to check that Kevin was still breathing, then threw himself at Riko, who was still trying to get up and kill someone. He hauled him to his feet and shook him slightly, wincing internally at all the trouble this would cause him later. Riko was still snarling in Kevin’s direction but thankfully his voice was muffled by all the blood. Jean kept one arm firmly around his waist and wiped at his mouth with the other. He’d bitten his tongue, and his lip was torn; his sleeve came away bloody. 

Jeremy was there now, having fetched Andrew. He was waving people away, looking amused and exasperated by the whole thing and assuring people that the fight had been more of a drunken squabble than a literal intent to kill. It was well done on Jeremy’s part, who had to know that one or both of them had been out for blood. People were already laughing about it, and moving on to fix the table and find more drinks. Katelyn tactfully grabbed Nicky and Aaron and shooed people indoors, laughing about letting them cool off for a while, until it was just Jeremy standing between the two Ravens and the remaining Foxes. 

‘Where’s Thea?’ Dan was asking, as Matt looped an arm around Kevin to support him. 

‘She left,’ replied Renee, who Jean hadn’t seen arrive on the scene. ‘Just a few minutes ago, but I’ve called her.’

Riko spat something very rude in Japanese that was aimed at both Renee and Thea, and Jean shook him again. 

‘Stop it,’ he snapped in French, forgetting himself. He repeated it in Japanese. ‘You think the press won’t ask about this? You think your uncle won’t?’

That shut Riko up. He simmered furiously but let his weight slump against Jean, who was all but holding him up. Jeremy looked at Riko tersely, but his expression softened when he met Jean’s eyes. 

‘Are you ok?’ he asked seriously. Jean could see he was longing to check on Kevin and the Foxes, so he just nodded like it was nothing. ‘Is there a back gate?’ he asked, half-joking, but Jeremy nodded quickly, beckoning Jean to follow him. He lead them down the back of the garden to a small gate that lead out on to a side street. Jean followed, one arm tight around Riko, who was hobbling. Hopefully if anyone saw them they’d just presume Riko was drunk. And not see the blood all over his face and shirt. 

‘Thanks,’ Jean said, as Jeremy pushed the gate open for him. ‘And sorry.’ 

Riko was thankfully half out of it, otherwise he would have given Jean no end of shit for the way Jeremy looked at him. His expression was tight with worry and sympathy, and he caught Jean’s free hand just before he closed the gate behind him. 

‘Get home safe, yeah?’ he said, eyes searching Jean’s face. ‘Sort him out but then go home.’ His fingers tightened on Jean’s for emphasis. 

Jean stared at him, not sure what to make of the concern when Riko was literally half-conscious and bleeding on Jean’s shirt. Jeremy seemed not to even see him.

‘Yeah,’ he said slowly. ‘I will.’

Jeremy nodded, and released Jean. It was a weird moment, and Jean hurried to get out of it. He turned Riko around and they made their slow way down the street as Jeremy turned to go back up the garden.

Jean had come in Thea’s car, and Riko had presumably been driven there by one or other of the Ravens. Jean was debating how dodgy it would be to call an Uber when Renee’s car appeared around the corner. She flashed the lights at him and Jean breathed a sigh of relief. 

‘You’re lucky one of us has friends,’ he muttered to Riko, dragging him towards the car.

 

Jean dumped Riko at his house and left almost immediately after making sure that Riko wasn’t going to choke on his own blood. He wouldn’t escape so easily - once Riko slept it off, he’d come for Jean - but it would be nice if Jean could at least get home and shower first. 

‘Where to?’ Renee asked, as he climbed back into her car. Her face was lit by the glow of her phone as she browsed the internet and let Jean compose himself. He leaned back in his seat and ran a hand over his face, grimacing as he found the dried blood. 

‘Home, I guess,’ he said. 

She closed her phone and looked at him. ‘You can come to mine if you want.’

It was tempting, but Riko wouldn’t be any happier if he had to physically go looking for Jean. 

‘No,’ he said. ‘But thanks. My place is good.’

Jean’s house was hardly lived in, the contents as sparse as Jeremy’s bedroom. Only a few personal items littered throughout the house showed that Jean owned it; a framed painting of a meadow on the wall inside the front door, a leather jacket and a red scarf hanging up on coat pegs, a music stand in the living room beside an old upright piano, a framed photo of his college team on the corner table. Little bits and pieces that made Jean feel connected and real. As opposed to how he usually felt, unless he was playing Exy. Although even that had started to lose its appeal with Riko breathing down his neck.

Trying not to think about that, he stumbled across to the kitchen seeking something to clean his face. He reached the counter and dropped his phone, keys, and wallet on to it with a loud clatter. An affronted murmur and light thump followed, and then Jean felt a soft head push itself against his hand. 

‘Hi,’ Jean said, in response to the insistent mewing. ‘I’m sorry, there was another girl tonight. She was blonde. Scared of loud noises.’

Roux clawed her way up Jean’s arm until she was perched on his shoulder. She pushed her face against his, black fur impossibly soft and comforting, and he let her complain at him until she started to lick the dried blood on his face. 

‘No,’ he said pulling her off and into his arms. ‘You savage.’

Roux was a runt, skinny and small with short back fur and yellow eyes. He’d found her sleeping under the wheel of his car last winter. Now she usually slept draped across his neck, trying to smother him. 

He showered while Roux batted a small rubber ball across his bed, letting the hot water unwind his tense muscles. He should be worried about Riko, and whether Kevin was ok, and if the press would notice their bruises and put two and two together, but instead he found his mind wandering to a pair of twinkling brown eyes and dimples. He thought about the way Jeremy had put his hand on his and caught his wrist. Jeremy had looked at him with nothing but good intentions; even hearing he’d basically thrown the game against the Foxes hadn’t made him look away. Jeremy was one of the few players in the game who’d never been carded, and still managed to be one of the very best. Jean hadn’t ever been able to imagine before tonight how both of those qualities could coexist in one person.

His mouth hurt, and his lip was swollen. As he was falling asleep, his phone lit up. _Jeremy_ _Knox_ _has_ _sent_ _you_ _a_ _friend_ _request_. 

A smile stole across Jean’s sore mouth. He reached out and tapped his fingers across the screen to accept. It was nearly 3am, but Jeremy sent him a message straight away. 

 _Get_ _home_ _ok_? 

Jean responded without thinking.

 _Yes,_ _thanks_. _Tell_ _Buttercup_ _I_ ’ _m_ _sorry_ _I_ _didn_ ’ _t_ _say_ _goodbye_.

His regret increased with every second that Jeremy didn’t reply. 

 _She_ ’ _s_ _upset but_ _she_ ’ _ll_ _forgive_ _you_ _I_ _think_ :))) _if_ _you_ _come_ _back_ _to_ _see_ _her_ _again_ _soon_.

Jean’s heart flipped. Roux threw herself across his face because she was feeling ignored. Blinking around soft cat paws, Jean replied _Definitely_. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

It took Riko a whole day to catch up with Jean, and when he did he nearly broke two of his ribs, even though Jean shouted at him about saving him from a literal murder charge. Riko smashed a photo frame in Jean’s room before he left, probably wishing it was Kevin’s face, because it was never really about Jean. 

Jean picked up the photo and the few bits of glass and carried them downstairs to the trash. He placed the broken frame on the coffee table in his front room and sat down heavily on the couch opposite it, wincing. The photo was one of two that he possessed of his family, who he’d never see again. His parents were caught in a rare moment of happiness. Jean was not in it; he’d taken the photo. It had turned up in his things when he’d arrived in America and had been a source of intense bitterness for him for a long time. Kevin had helped him make sense of his complicated feelings towards the family that had sold him and then hadn’t lived to answer any of his questions, saddling him with a debt he wasn’t ever meant to pay off.

Business resumed as normal after that. He went to the gym in the morning with Thea and Kevin, who was bruised and more sullen than usual but alive, then trained with the Ravens in the afternoon. Riko was his usual awful self, bullying the Ravens into pushing themselves harder than they should, and it was different to the way Jean knew Kevin pushed the Foxes. Kevin did it so they could all be better; Riko did it because he liked to be mean. 

He went running with Renee most evenings, or sometimes with Aaron. Jean didn’t like hanging out with his own teammates, and avoided them as much as he could. They were all set on impressing Riko and making Court as soon as possible. Jean was already Court and he couldn’t get rid of Riko, so nothing they were into really appealed to him. 

There was no escaping his service to Riko, though. Two days before they were due to travel to play Washington State, Jean had to cross the city and meet yet another shady dealer at a very exclusive strip club, if there was such a thing. Riko never used the same dealer twice but he always used Jean to collect because he “blended in”. They both knew it was because Jean couldn’t say no to Riko, or Riko would whisper the wrong thing in his uncle’s ear and Jean’s living situation would dramatically worsen.

Jean thought with some amusement of his reputation as something of a womaniser, due to the inevitable photos that had emerged of him leaving and entering such establishments over the last two years. He liked women fine, but it was men that inevitably caught his eye. Jean thought he was ok with people thinking he was straight if it meant they didn’t look any further at his nighttime activities than the tips he left the strippers. 

He met this month’s dealer under a pole. He shook his hand as a woman slipped a bottle into one of his pockets and take a roll of bills out of the other. Jean’s eyes drifted over the bare skin and soft curves all around him, appreciative but largely disinterested, and the man grinned.

‘Someone else, perhaps?’ he asked. He indicated an arch covered by a red curtain to their left. A male gender sign flashed over it, and Jean rolled his eyes. 

‘Maybe another time,’ he said, though the part of him that couldn’t stop thinking about brown eyes and broad shoulders was tempted. Just then a young man stepped out from under the curtain, and the dealer beckoned before Jean could stop him. 

The man had dark skin and a tattoo of a wolf on his bare back. His hands were hot on Jean’s skin and his mouth wet and soft on his neck. The club was made with privacy in mind, and in a dark corner Jean let him push him up against the wall kiss his thoughts away. The man was good, and Jean made a noise of pleasure when his lips found Jean’s neck. He sucked a bruise into the skin there, hands caressing his body, then dropped to his knees. 

Jean wasn’t embarrassed about paying for such services. Willing or not, he knew something about indentured servitude, so he tipped the man generously afterwards and left feeling calm, but still unsatisfied.

He passed through a popular downtown district on his way home, and parked his car with the intention of picking up some vodka to take home and drink himself asleep with. He left the bottle locked securely in the glove compartment of his car and went in search of a liquor store. 

The clubs and bars all around him spilled music and light and people on to the streets, and before long Jean spotted a familiar face. 

‘Hey!’ Jeremy said, suddenly all in his space and looking absurdly pleased to see him. ‘How’s the mouth, Cinderella man?’

Jean rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. ‘Fine, thanks,’ he said, he said. ‘How’s your table?’

Jeremy shrugged easily. ‘A little chipped, but it survived the trauma of the evening.’ His eyes found Jean’s split lip, sore from his earlier activities. Jeremy bit his own lip  for a second before continuing ‘So are you out with people?’

Jean shook his head. ‘On my way home,’ he said. ‘Just stopped to, uh - ‘

‘Have a drink with me?’ Jeremy cocked an eyebrow and grinned. ‘Come on, just one. I want to thank you for breaking up the other night.’

Jean wanted to, badly. But …

‘I have somewhere to be’ he admitted, regret twisting his words into something that sounded annoyed. ‘I would - aren’t you with people?’

Jeremy shook his head. ‘Nah, they bailed,’ he said. ‘I’m all by myself. Just one? Come on, I’m buying.’

The flirty smile was gone; Jeremy looked like he was really asking now, and a little unsure about it too. That sold it for Jean.

‘Alright,’ he said, smiling. ‘One drink.’

They found a bar a little less crowded and a little less loud, and Jeremy made a face at Jean’s vodka tonic, his drink of choice. Jeremy drank beer because of course he did. Jean gave him points for being honest and not trying to keep up with Jean. 

He caught Jeremy typing out a very quick text before putting his phone away and smiling at Jean over the table. ‘So,’ he said. ‘What were you up to tonight?’

Jean blinked, raising his eyebrows. 

‘Uh, just running some errands,’ he said honestly, taking a drink. Jeremy watched him, waiting until he’d set the glass down before continuing. 

‘The kind of errands that leave, uh …’ He tapped his neck with his own finger, and the movement was so pleasing to watch that Jean didn’t immediately catch on.

‘What - oh.’ Jean ducked his head, mortified, as Jeremy’s delighted laughter stirred something warm inside him. ‘That’s not what you think.’ Even though it was exactly what Jeremy was thinking. 

But Jeremy was shaking his head and holding up his hand. ‘It’s ok,’ he said easily, still smiling. ‘I’m not saying anything. I just noticed it - whatever.’ He waved his hands rather adorably, and took a drink of his beer to shut himself up. Jean found he really liked how Jeremy’s mouth pursed around the glass lip of the bottle. 

So Jean just shrugged and let the moment wash over them. He shouldn’t care what Jeremy thought of him anyway.

They broke the ice with Exy, the great uniter. They argued back and forth about this formation and that, and what Jeremy had planned for the Trojans this year. 

One drink turned into three more, as each kept insisting they pay for the next round because “you got the last one”. Every now and then Jean would check his phone, just in case. When Jeremy finally called him on it his voice was light, but Jean heard the depth of his interest behind his words. 

‘So who you waiting on?’ he asked, nodding at the phone Jean was tucking back into his pocket. Jean frowned, shaking his head a little. 

‘No one,’ he lied. ‘Just …’ He trailed off into his drink, draining it. ‘I should probably go, though.’

‘Is it Riko?’ Jeremy asked suddenly, making Jean pause and watch him warily. Jeremy glanced away, drumming his fingers on the table. ‘I’m not saying anything,’ he said carefully. He shrugged, and smiled a little at Jean. ‘He just seems to stress you out.’

Jean frowned suspiciously. ‘What has Kevin been saying to you?’

Jeremy laughed, sitting back in his seat. ‘Nothing, honestly,’ he said. ‘Well, he might have said some very drunk things the other night that I swear I didn’t pay attention to, but Thea did mention that you - you had to take care of Riko. Even thought you didn’t want to.’

That was about the large and small of it, thought Jean dryly. 

‘He’s my friend,’ he lied. That was an easy one by now.

‘Ok. Is he though?’ Jeremy pressed, leaning forward. His eyes were bright and intent, and Jean had to glance away before he started staring. 

‘Yeah,’ he said uncomfortable. ‘I mean, whatever. He’s - Riko.’

Jeremy sat back again, and when he spoke his voice was fake casual. ‘Are you two, like, together?’

‘What? Jesus no,’ Jean said quickly, skin crawling at the thought. ‘No, Riko’s straight.’ He very carefully didn’t mention himself.

‘Right,’ Jeremy said, staring at him thoughtfully. ‘And you’re single.’

Jean nodded, tracing a finger through a small drop of liquid on the table. 

‘So, uh, this,’ Jeremy gestured to his own neck again, ‘this was just like, extra-curricular or what?’

‘Shut up,’ Jean said, looking away but grinning despite himself. Jeremy’s shit-eating jabs and wide innocent eyes were equal parts charming and hilarious, and at total odds with his soft country accent. Jeremy looked relaxed and easy in Jean’s presence, mirroring how Jean himself felt. 

‘So Kevin’s ok then?’ Jeremy asked, after drink number four. Jean was feeling pleasantly tipsy. ‘I would have called him but I wasn’t sure if I wouldn’t make it worse.’

Was he joking or legitimately concerned? ‘Hey, Jeremy,’ Jean said seriously. ‘You know Kevin’s not actually mad at you, right?’

Jeremy pursed his lips, looking unconvinced. ‘Are you sure? He’s been avoiding me.’

 ‘Look,’ said Jean. ‘If I know Kevin - and I do know Kevin - he probably feels like he let you down or some shit. You’re kind of his hero. He literally wears a Trojan sweater to sleep.’

Jeremy’s eyes widened, and Jean slowly put a hand over his mouth. 

‘What?’ Jeremy asked, sounding delighted. ‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing,’ said Jean, dragging his hand away. ‘You didn’t hear that. That - that is more personal than his sex life.’

Jeremy was laughing probably more at Jean’s distress than the fact that Kevin was a huge dork. ‘To my grave,’ he promised, miming crossing his heart. ‘Ok, I feel a little better now, thanks.’

‘I didn’t say it to make you feel better!’ protested Jean. ‘You got me drunk.’

Jeremy shrugged innocently. ‘Well I feel fine. Maybe your tolerance is just shit.’

‘Is there even alcohol in that beer?’

‘Actually I like my recreational drinking to taste the least like pure chemicals as it can? Thanks though.’

 They probably would have kept going like that all night if Jean had had his way. Already he could imagine how easy it would be to catch Jeremy’s eye and suggest they get out of there, how quickly Jeremy would follow him. He might be drunk but he wasn’t blind. Jeremy’s eyes followed his lips, his hands, staring at him when Jean spoke. But then Jean’s phone buzzed stridently in his pocket and it was like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over him when he saw Riko’s name on the caller ID.

He closed his eyes briefly as Riko cursed him out of it in a flurry of cold Japanese. He tried to respond as little as possible, knowing that Riko would hear the alcohol in his voice. He waved his fingers at Jeremy, who was politely staring out the window and pretending he couldn’t hear, and mouthed “phone” at him.

Jeremy unlocked his phone and slid it across to Jean, looking a little confused. It took Jean only a minute to save his number to Jeremy’s phone and slide it back, heart pounding stupidly as he did so. He winked at Jeremy before standing up, snagging his jacket off the back of his seat and making a very quick exit as Riko’s voice got louder in his ear. 

He stopped by his car to get the drugs before calling a taxi, paying the driver extra to break the speed limit. He arrived at Riko’s house to find him literally throwing his toys around, and had to let Riko throw him around for a bit before he could drag himself home. Their game against Washington State was only two days away, and now he’d be playing with bruised ribs and a new gash on his shoulder from where Riko had shoved him into a table. It wasn’t unusual for Jean to play through the pain, but it did make him care a whole lot less about the outcome of the game. Riko was dulling his interest in Exy like alcohol dulled his senses, but Jean felt a sharp ache whenever he thought about leaving Jeremy so quickly at the bar.

 

They did end up beating Washington, thankfully. Riko wasn’t the only one with issues, but he was the only one taking performance enhancing drugs to battle them. It gave him back the edge he’d had before Kevin had friend-dumped him, so it didn’t even look suspicious. Only Kevin and Jean knew the truth, and probably Thea too, but they didn’t talk about it, because they both knew that if Riko went down, Jean was going with him.

A few days later, Jeremy added Jean to a group chat of about ten people and sent a message “Scrimmage? Teams are a surprise. Palmetto @ 9 on Wednesday.”

Jean raised his eyebrows at his phone as messages flooded in.

 **Neil:** why Palmetto?

 **Jeremy:** shitty security

 **Dan:** [middle finger emoji]

 **Dan:** we’re in

 **Kevin:** pm me the teams

Jeremy rolled his eyes. A few minutes later Jeremy sent the list to them all:

Team 1: Neil, Laila, Dan, Thea, Jean

Team 2: Kevin, Andrew, Jeremy, Alvarez, Matt

Jean got it immediately. So, apparently, did Andrew, who sent a laughing emoji. Kevin only responded with: ?? 

 **Jean:** he’s keeping the couples apart

 **Jeremy:** I knew you were smart

 **Jean:** [lightbulb emoji]

 **Neil:** I’m watching his face work it out

 **Matt:** [five laughing emojis]

 **Alvarez:** Sounds like fun!

 **Laila:** Definitely. Out afterwards?

 **Jeremy:** Yeah!

 **Kevin:** how are we supposed to play with only two strikers?

 **Jeremy:** wait so you DON’T want a challenge?

Jean had to applaud that. 

 **Thea:** Kevin threw his phone away but we’ll be there.

When Jean arrived at Palmetto on Wednesday he found Matt’s shiny jeep and Andrew’s Maserati already parked, which made sense since they had to open the place up. He pulled up beside Laila and Alvarez, who were just getting out of Laila’s Audi. 

‘Hey,’ Jean said, getting his spare gear bag out of the boot. The girls were carrying coats draped across their own and had high heels swinging from their fingers.

‘Hey,’ Laila smiled at him. 

‘This is gonna be fun,’ grinned Alvarez.

Jean didn’t know either of them too well but they seemed nice enough, and they chatted companionably to him as they keyed in the code Kevin had sent them all that morning and let themselves into the Palmetto stadium grounds. Someone had stuck signs up over the Home and Away markers that read TEAM ONE (LOSERS) and TEAM TWO (WINNERS).

‘Nice,’ muttered Jean, as the girls cackled.

‘Guess we’re going this way,’ Laila said, smiling at him. They left Alvarez and headed left down towards the Palmetto home dressing rooms, where they found Dan and Neil already changing and warming up.

‘What’s up?’ Dan grinned. ‘Ok, so far there’s fifty in the pot on Jeremy putting Kevin on the same team as him because he’s afraid Kevin will have a breakdown if he loses to him again, you guys in?’

Jean snorted and Laila cackled. ‘I’ll take that,’ she said. 

‘What’s the money on Kevin being too starstruck to pass to Jeremy all night?’ Jean asked, earning a grin from Neil. 

‘Matt and Jeremy have that pool,’ Dan said. ‘Allison put 100 in like immediately. She and Renee are gonna record the whole thing from the stands, but don’t tell Kevin.’

The mood was light as Jean and Alvarez changed. ‘Don’t you ever get sick of all the orange in here?’ Alvarez asked Dan. ’Every time I blink it’s like, afterimage or whatever.’

‘Dan actually doesn’t think it’s bright enough,’ Neil said, earning him a punch in the shoulder. Thea turned up and literally did look stunned by the orange. She was already wearing her Raven training gear.

‘I changed in the car,’ she explained darkly. ‘While Kevin had a tiny breakdown about playing with Jeremy tonight.’

‘Yesss,’ crowed Jean quietly as the others laughed. 

They jogged out on to the court, Thea going to join Kevin in warming up. The couples automatically gravitated towards each other before greeting everyone else, and Jean found himself face to face with Jeremy. 

‘Glad you could make it,’ Jeremy said, looking super pleased to see him, again. 

Jean shrugged like it was no big deal. ‘Stepped inside and instantly made money off Kevin. Guess I’m going to be buying your drinks tonight, Knox.’

This should have been bad news for Jeremy but his grin only got wider. ‘Shit, I’m losing already? Damn, Kevin better bring it tonight.’

‘I fucking will, Jeremy, ok?’ snapped Kevin as he and Thea ran by. Jeremy laughed that glorious, full-body belly laugh of his, and Jean could feel everyone’s eyes on them. He hoped Renee and Allison weren’t recording yet. 

Spirits were high as the game began. It was exciting, playing on the same team as people he’d only played against before, Thea being the exception. Before an Exy game, it was normal to spend hours going over team sheets and statistics, learning the team you were going up against and knowing their weaknesses. But this was a mashup of some of the best players in the game, and Jean would have argued that his team had the advantage of he and Thea’s already established partnership at the back, if it weren’t for the tiny blond goalkeeper ruining all of Neil’s fun at the other end. 

Dan and Jeremy catcalled each other from the centre of the court, dealing fast balls up to their strikers and getting in the backliners faces. Jean found that it was an absolute delight to shoulder Jeremy out of his way, clashing their racquetes together and generally ruining every shot he could. But damn, Jeremy was fast. He could twist out of a space Jean was sure he’d catch him in every time. Jean could hear him laughing as Jean chased him. 

But the real battle was with Kevin. God, he’d forgotten what it was like to really play against him, and the buzzed atmosphere at Palmetto got Jean’s blood pumping, even dragged an excited smile across his face. He and Thea eventually resorted to outright cheating just to get Kevin shouting at them, because they were the only two on the court who could just openly laugh at Kevin’s anger. Jeremy and Dan, the unofficial captains, didn’t even call them on it; Jean spotted Jeremy laughing even as Kevin shoved Jean out of his way. 

Jean also got to appreciate once again just how fast Neil was. Neil and Andrew seemed to have their own game going on between just the two of them, and every time Neil fired on goal Jean thought it was going to go in. But nine times out of ten, Andrew saved it. He was astonishingly good, but rarely did he perform this well. 

Jeremy and Dan collided yet again at centre court, and Renee called half-time by banging on the court walls until someone noticed. The two of them rolled away from each other, laughing again, the ball forgotten. Even Kevin had started to loosen up, and let Thea kiss his cheek and ruffle his sweaty hair when he took off his helmet. They headed to the stands for a water break, and Jeremy bumped his shoulder against Jean’s.

‘You almost broke my arm there,’ he complained.

‘Drama queen,’ replied Jean. ‘I did not. Maybe you’re just not as fast as you thought you were.’

Jeremy grinned at him, eyes alight with humour. ‘Right, ok. Hey, Kevin hasn’t cried yet though, so I’m calling it a win.’

‘Even though you’re out roughly two hundred dollars?’

‘Three fifty. It’s no big deal. You’re still gonna buy me that drink, right?’

‘I’m thinking about it.’ And fuck, Jean was helpless when Jeremy looked at him like that. 

The game resumed and immediately got dirty as the couples turned on each other. Andrew rebounded a shot directly at Neil’s head, a savage grin on his face as Neil caught it and swung it right back at him. The two played a vicious game of catch for a minute until Renee banged on the glass, laughing. Andrew fired it up to Jeremy, and Matt caught Dan around the waist and physically lifted her away from the action; she shrieked as Jeremy sprinted away, rebounding the ball off the wall before taking aim at Kevin. 

Jean smashed into him before the ball could leave his racquet. They both tumbled away, letting Dan wrestle Matt for the ball, and when Jeremy got up again Jean followed him, dogging his heels silently until Jeremy almost couldn’t run from laughing so hard. 

The only two behaving themselves were Laila and Alvarez, and that was only because they were so far apart, but Alvarez had a damn loud voice that carried. 

‘Put him down, Moreau,’ she yelled. ‘Save it for later!’

Jean laughed in Jeremy’s ear and shoved him away, but not too hard. He was distracted from the genuine blush spreading up Jeremy’s neck by Kevin racing past him for the goal. ‘Jean!’ snapped Thea, running after him. 

The rest of the game was a flurry of legitimate cheating. Renee gave up trying to call foul and just sat in the stands with Allison laughing helplessly. 

 Jean couldn’t believe how much fun he was having. This was what Exy was supposed to be like. Not the cheating obviously, but the open dialogue between the players and pushing yourself hard against your opponent because you wanted to test yourself, not because you hated them. The Foxes laughed and called to each other, the Trojans cheered each other on, regardless of teams, and Jean wondered what it would be like to have practise like this every day, with people you considered actual friends. Even Andrew, who as far as Jean knew could hardly tolerate anyone except Neil, called plays to the backliners and tapped racquetes with Matt on more than one occasion. 

With Jean and Thea on Kevin’s ass constantly, and Andrew just being Andrew in the other goal, the score ended up tied at 3-3. Jean knew this was the lowest Kevin had ever scored in a game ever, and it was very amusing to see him try to get past Thea as the minutes ticked down. Jeremy was doing his best to get the ball to him, but Dan menaced his every move. She was a marvellously tenacious player with a mean swing, and Jean winced for Jeremy on more than one occasion. 

That didn’t stop him getting his body in the way so Dan could steal the ball from Jeremy, who struggled to get around Jean and instead found himself being knocked to the ground.

‘Sorry, didn’t see you,’ Jean said. He was about to run off to cover his line but Jeremy stuck out his racquet and tripped him. Jean went down and Jeremy tried to pull himself up, but Jean caught his leg and sent him back down again. They ended up stuck on the ground in the middle of the court, laughing weakly as Renee blew her whistle, signalling the end of the game. 

‘You are a terrible person, Jean Moreau,’ Jeremy gasped as they lay there, trying to get their breath back. 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Jean dismissively, waving his hand weakly. ‘Oh, thanks Kevin,’ he added sourly, as Kevin pulled Jeremy to his feet and congratulated him solemnly on a good game. Neil pulled Jean up, deceptively strong despite his height. 

‘Good game,’ he said, looking exhausted but pleased with himself. 

‘You too,’ Jean said. ‘Didn’t expect your boyfriend to turn up, honestly.’

Neil glanced over his shoulder at where Andrew was allowing himself to be spoken to by Alvarez. He was apparently too tired to act bored. Neil grinned. ‘Yeah, no one expects Andrew,’ he said. ‘You coming out with us?’

Jean nodded, already feeling a little restless under his skin as his eyes found Jeremy again. 

He followed the others out to the changing rooms, Dan hitching a ride on Matt’s back and Renee and Allison joining them from the stands. Money changed hands, and Jean teased Jeremy by mouthing a sincere “Thank you” as he pocketed his. Jeremy shook his head and made a face at him, but he looked in a better mood than anyone out that much money really ought to. 

After showering, the men and women split up to change, the girls taking the Home room because it was bigger. Jean was delighted to find Jeremy’s attention entirely on him as they waited, and they rehashed the game, arguing companionably.

Renee and Allison finished getting ready quicker than the others since they didn’t have to shower, and they dragged everyone into a lively debate concerning money and finances after the evening’s game. The arguments got louder when the rest of the girls joined them.

‘It is so nice taking your money, Jeremy,’ Jean said. 

‘I’ve still got a few bets outstanding,’ Jeremy replied casually. ‘Pretty confident I’ll make it all back.’

Jean scoffed but Laila shook her head. 

‘Don’t discount our lovely Jeremy,’ she warned him, smiling. ‘He’s lucky.’

Jean turned his smile on Jeremy, who looked a little embarrassed with the attention. ‘Really?’ Jean asked, interested. ‘Lucky how?’

‘As in he _gets_ lucky, what up.’ Alvarez hip-checked Jeremy and high-fived her girlfriend. 

‘Thanks, Alvarez.’ Jeremy was actually blushing now, and  threw his backliner what he probably considered to be a dirty look. 

‘Well now I’m really interested,’ Jean murmured to Jeremy as they filed out of the building. ‘Could use some of that luck. Is it transferable?’

‘Nope, sorry,’ Jeremy said breezily. ‘It’s all natural. I was born at the end of a rainbow.’

‘With a pot of gold I hope, the way the betting pool is going. Who bets _against_ Kevin yelling at Neil within the first five minutes?’

‘They were on different teams! I really thought Kevin had grown as a person.’

Jean smirked and gave Jeremy a little shove, letting his hand linger on his shoulder. ‘You’re naive, Jeremy.’

Jeremy sniffed indignantly. ‘I give people the benefit of the doubt. It’s not the same thing.’ He turned his head and suddenly he had a look in his eyes that startled Jean right out of his teasing. 

‘Feeling lucky tonight though,’ he said, and even though everyone was still around he made no secret of the way his gaze raked over Jean’s face, down his body and back up to linger over his mouth, then his eyes. The look he gave him sent a shiver up Jean’s spine. His hands twitched at his sides. He wasn’t sure what reply could save him from sounding completely desperate and probably embarrassing, so he settled for meeting Jeremy’s eyes and hoped he was getting the message loud and clear. 

They left their cars at Palmetto and called taxis to get them into the city. Jean reflected that this was the second time he’d abandoned his car somewhere thanks to Jeremy Knox, but maybe this time he’d come with him to get it the next morning. 

They headed to Timepiece, the club with the best VIP security and a popular haunt for athletes. It was very dark and very loud and the likes of Kevin and Jeremy were immediately mobbed. Everyone began mingling with other athletes they knew and buying drinks, and Jean felt a bit more relaxed because Renee was there and Jeremy was still in sight and even Thea looked like she was unwinding. 

The two of them lined up some shots and started working their way through them. Tequila had been their drink of choice back in college when Riko had been making their lives hell, and now the pungent taste reminded Jean that neither of them had managed to escape him. Thea, at least, spent as little time around the Ravens as she had to. Jean had asked her before why she didn’t say yes to any of the other teams that were constantly putting in bids to buy her, but she’d actually seemed puzzled by the question. To her, the Ravens were the best technical team in the league, and she would suffer Riko if it meant she got to play with the best. She and Kevin were well suited, Jean supposed. Kevin had just been pushed a little harder than she had. 

‘There’s a lot of money on you,’ she said, after they’d put away three shots each. Jean grimaced slightly at the taste and frowned at her.

‘What? Who?’

Thea smirked. ‘You and Captain America. Doing the whole - ‘ She pushed her tongue into her cheek and made a quick jerk with her fist ‘ - and all that.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Jean muttered, beckoning for the bartender again and holding up three fingers. ‘Shut up.’

‘Just thought you should know. I wanna take Kevin somewhere fancy this weekend so you’d better put out, Moreau.’

‘Then isn’t telling me technically cheating? You’re skewing the odds in your favour,’ Jean argued, washing down the bullshit with tequila. Thea rolled her eyes at him, her green eyeshadow sparkling in the flashing bar lights. 

‘Right,’ she said deliberately, making it clear she knew he was talking shit. ‘Well, you can stew on that before you get into his pants if you want, but don’t leave it too late. I’m gonna go rescue Kevin.’ She nodded over to where Kevin was being cornered by two very eager Eagles players. 

‘Hey,’ said Jean, gesturing to the lime and salt they hadn’t bothered to use. ‘Without saying goodbye?’

Thea rolled her eyes again but grinned at him. It was their old tradition. Thea generally considered all kinds of drink aids and chasers to be a waste of time, but Jean had been terrible at holding his liquor in the beginning, so she’d allowed him one of each to ease the burn. It was also a sly dig at Riko, who would never have allowed it and who also couldn’t hold his liqour. 

They lined up the salt on the back of their hands, then linked arms and licked it off. Jean opened his mouth for the lime as he pushed the other wedge between Thea’s teeth, and they grinned at each other. 

‘Ugh,’ she said, taking the lime out and making a face. ‘Awful. Go get laid, ok?’

Jean shook his head, grinning at her as she stalked away. ‘That’s the plan,’ he muttered to himself, pushing away from the bar. 

But Jeremy was almost harder to get to than Kevin, by virtue of actually knowing personally every single person in all those photographs in his house. He was shaking more hands than the president, laughing and accepting drinks and seeming to have some sort of story or good time to reminisce over with everyone. It reminded Jean of why he’d been intimidated in the first place; how could he claim even some of that attention from someone who was determined to share it with everyone?

He found himself standing with Neil and Andrew, who were surprisingly restful to be around when they were drinking. Or at least, when Andrew was drinking. Neil had a water every second drink but Andrew looked like he was trying for a personal best. 

‘How is he still standing?’ Jean asked Dan, genuinely amazed as he watched Andrew skull yet another drink. ‘He’s so …’

‘Small?’ Dan was standing at his shoulder, grinning. ‘I know, right? His tolerance is, like, woah. Kevin tries to keep up with him most nights when we go out and we still end up having to carry him, while Andrew could probably drive safely.’

Jean snorted. ‘That’s because Kevin has the tolerance of fourteen year old,’ he said. ‘He used to get drunk off the fumes in me and Thea’s bedroom back in college.’

Dan snorted, then paused. ‘You and Thea were roommates?’

Jean nodded, then shook his head as Andrew went to get more shots. 

‘How did that work?’ Dan asked, who must have been more than a little drunk to not get it. 

Jean raised an eyebrow at her meaningfully.

‘Oh, because you’re …’

‘Gay, yeah.’

‘Right, right.’

She bought him a drink because she felt like she’d embarrassed him or something. It was a nice gesture, though unnecessary. 

‘Thea didn’t know I was gay,’ Jean told her as they leaned over the bar. ‘We were friends first.’

Dan looked interested. ‘I’d still be shifty about rooming with a guy,’ she admitted. 

Jean nodded. ‘Yeah. But have you seen Thea? I would genuinely enjoy watching some guy try to touch her without her permission.’ Dan laughed, and he continued, ‘Seriously though, sometimes I worry about Kevin. Have you seen her thighs? He puts his life in her hands every time he goes down on her.’

Dan laughed so hard she choked on her drink. Jean patted her on the back and felt much more in control of the evening. 

But then he watched Dan loop an arm around Matt’s neck and speak into his ear. Matt’s face split into a broad grin as she relayed what Jean had said to her, and then he turned that grin on Dan as he laughed with her. Jean felt a little tug on his heart as he watched them touch and smile at each other, and he cast his eyes around for Jeremy again. 

He couldn’t see him, but he did see Kevin and Thea draped across each other on a couch, Kevin looking blissfully happy to be allowed to rub Thea’s shoulders while she texted, her predatory demeanour keeping all fans and associated hangers on away from him. Laila and Alvarez were dancing, twirling each other around drunkenly and laughing into each other’s mouths, their hair mingling over their shoulders and their long bare legs knocking together. Neil and Andrew had retreated to a very dark, quiet corner, but they weren’t even doing anything scandalous; Jean could see them holding hands, Andrew pressing Neil against the wall with his head tilted to one side so Neil could kiss it, very softly. Jean wasn’t quick enough in looking away; Neil caught his eye and jerked his head irritably. Jean thought he was just telling him to fuck off, but he automatically glanced in the direction of Neil’s gaze anyways, and felt his stomach drop into his shoes. 

Jeremy was being backed into the wall by someone very tan with big shoulders. Their fingers were linked together and Jeremy was pushing back against him, laughing like he thought it was funny but with a distinct air of “go away” in the set of his shoulders and the hard line of his smile. 

Jean considered not intervening. Jeremy wasn’t exactly looking for help and the guy was smiling too, like he was just being overly friendly and didn’t mean anything by it. For all he knew, Jeremy was into the guy and liked playing hard to get or whatever. Heart hammering in his chest, he looked away, searching for something to distract him. Kevin was the first person he saw, and his pulse leapt when he saw the furious look on his face as he watched Jeremy politely fending off the advances. He was looking less amused now, and so was Jean.

He tapped on the guy’s shoulder, firmly. Forcing himself to meet his eyes when he turned instead of looking anywhere near Jeremy, Jean smiled. 

‘Go away,’ he said firmly, a tight smile on his face. Jean was built like the backliner he was, and the other guy took this in quickly, letting go of Jeremy’s hands - wrists, Jean saw, with a flash of anger. 

‘Hey listen, I was just - ‘

‘Bye,’ Jean said, taking his shoulder and shoving him away, hard. The guy stumbled and was caught by an onlooker. That was about as much attention as Jean could give him. He looked back at Jeremy, who was struggling to get his smile back in place. 

‘Are you ok?’ he asked, eyes searching Jeremy’s face. 

Jeremy was nodding quickly, flashing that smile like everything was fine. ‘Yeah, no worries,’ he said. ‘Uh, he was just drunk.’

‘Right,’ said Jean, insides burning. ‘That wasn’t ok though.’

Jeremy hesitated, then nodded, smile dimming a bit. He looked abruptly exhausted. ‘I know,’ he said, too quietly to hear, but Jean was staring at his lips so it didn’t matter. He wanted to do so many things for Jeremy that didn’t involve buying him a drink, but that’s all he could come up with right now. 

‘I still owe you one,’ he reminded him, flashing him a smile. Anything to get that look off his face. ‘Unless you wanna go double or nothing.’

Jeremy smiled back, and Jean’s heart flipped. ‘Oh yeah? What would we bet on, though?’

Jean shrugged, his body automatically angling towards Jeremy, every inch of him craving his touch. ‘I’m sure we’d think of something.’

But Jeremy wasn’t responding; he was hesitating, and Jean realised too late that he’d just gotten a bit of a fright. He stepped back quickly, dropping his shoulders and folding his arms, looking down at his feet to give Jeremy a moment. 

‘I should probably go.’

Jean had expected it, but it still felt like shit. He nodded, smiling like he understood, like he fully supported that decision, and said ‘Yeah, ok. Hey, thanks for tonight. It was the most fun I’ve had playing Exy in a long time.’

Jeremy nodded, expression brightening slightly. ‘It was fun, wasn’t it?’ he said quietly. ‘Uh, I’ll see you around?’

Jean nodded, turning to leave before his face could betray him. 

He found Renee and Allison on the larger dance floor, but not before he’d purchased two more shots, downing them one after another without pausing for breath. Renee took one look at his face and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down to kiss his cheek and neck. Renee wasn’t into sex and Jean wasn’t into women, but the touch and comfort was appreciated so he kissed her back and let her and Allison tug him along to the beat of the music. 

Jean was drunk to the point of not being in full control of his limbs, so he swayed between them while they propped him up. But the night wore on and the alcohol wore off, and Jean was feeling unpleasantly aware of himself after a few more hours. He was contemplating leaving the relative safety of Renee and Allison to get another drink when he felt a hand slip into his. This wasn’t unusual; people had been pulling at them all night. But something about it made Jean turn.

He found himself staring into Jeremy’s eyes, so unexpected that he had to blink a few times to clear his vision. He opened his mouth to ask, but Jeremy’s expression was so intent and serious and entirely focused on Jean that he couldn’t find the words. He let Jeremy pull him from the crowd, away from his friends and everybody else. He led him up the stairs to a mostly deserted and very dark hallway, gripping Jean’s hand tightly, then turned to face him with his back against the wall. 

‘Thought you left,’ said Jean, moving close against his body. Jeremy licked his lips, teeth biting his bottom lip briefly, and Jean felt a rush of desire flash hot inside him.

‘Couldn’t leave without you,’ Jeremy said, and then he was wrapping his arms around Jean’s neck. Jean’s heart kicked off as he put his hands on Jeremy’s waist, feeling how warm and lean he was, how he moved forward slightly, pushing into Jean’s touch. 

He felt Jeremy’s fingers graze the back of his neck, pulling him down to him. He kissed him softly but firmly, with no hesitation, only sweet willingness. Jean wanted him so badly he had to stop himself from pushing him back against the wall and going too far too soon. He gripped Jeremy’s hips and kissed him back, feeling excitement and arousal flood his body. Jeremy’s arms were strong around his neck as he pushed his body into Jean’s. Jean let the kisses remain chaste for a few more minutes because Jeremy deserved to be treated gently, but then Jeremy dug his hands into Jean’s hair and tugged his head sideways, mouth slipping hot and wet down his neck. He pressed a hard kiss to the skin there, sucking the skin expertly to leave a bruise and not a bite, and Jean felt a tremor run through his body. He pulled back a little and met Jeremy’s eyes and saw something wild there, something that recognised Jean and was itching for a fight. 

He pushed Jeremy back into the wall without a second thought and kissed him hard, forcing his tongue inside his mouth. Jeremy gasped against him and pushed back, their bodies hard against each other. His hands fisted in Jean’s hair almost painfully as he licked into Jeremy’s mouth, his own hands sliding up and under Jeremy’s shirt, running over his back and holding him firmly against him. 

The music pressed loud against them, almost deafening, and Jean could pretend like there was no one else around. He could have kissed Jeremy all day and all night, never getting tired of the way he responded to him, how he shivered when his fingers scraped his back and when he bit his lip, how he moaned softly into his mouth when Jean got a knee between his legs and sucked a real bruise into his neck. They’d have to leave soon, Jean thought faintly, in the back of his mind. He wanted to take Jeremy apart in the privacy of his own bed.

As he worked on marking Jeremy’s neck, loving the way he trembled beneath him, he heard Jeremy whisper into his ear ‘Take me home?’

Jean raised his head and lifted a hand to cup Jeremy’s cheek. His gaze was dark and unbelievably sexy - how could someone who wore polo shirts and liked dipping fries into his milkshake be this fucking attractive, Jean wondered wildly - and he turned his head to kiss Jean’s palm without taking his eyes off him. Jean’s dick twitched in his pants and he bit his lip before leaning in to kiss him, hot and slow. He pulled back and nodded, and he felt Jeremy’s hand slip into his again. 

They passed Kevin on the way out; his face was serious and trying to get his attention. Had he just lost money? Jean chose to ignore him entirely; as if he was going to even glance in Kevin’s direction when Jeremy’s hand was tight in his. 

When he dug his phone out to call a taxi, he had three missed calls from Thea and a bunch of messages he had no intention of checking. Whatever it was, it could wait. Everything could wait, except the man kissing his neck softly. Jean hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in and Jeremy snuggled into him deliciously, tilting his head back for a kiss. 

They made out shamelessly in the backseat of the taxi. Jean mumbled something about Jeremy being too much of a good boy to take off his seatbelt, so Jeremy snapped it off and climbed into Jean’s lap, biting his neck and slipping a hand down between them. 

‘I take it back,’ Jean gasped into his hair. ‘Fuck, you’re a bad person.’

Jeremy hummed in agreement, licking over the bite but continuing to rub at Jean’s crotch anyways. The back of the cab driver’s neck was going red, and Jean tipped him 100% when they pulled up at his house. 

He let go of Jeremy only to quickly shut the living room door when they let themselves in, having spotted a flash of black fur. Jeremy looked at him curiously, a playful smile on his lips. 

‘What was that?’ he asked, teasing. He leaned into Jean’s space and fisted a hand in his shirt. Fuck, Jean thought, dazed. Jeremy was devastating when he looked like this. He spoke before he even knew what he was admitting. 

‘I have a cat,’ he said, and genuine surprise wiped the teasing from Jeremy’s face, allowing Jean to recover.

‘Yeah,’ he continued, sighing heavily. ‘I should have told you. I hope this doesn’t change your opinion of me.’

Jeremy pulled out of his arms, shaking his head. ‘It’s just such a shock,’ he mumbled, holding up his hands. ‘I can hardly look at you.’ He glanced up, grinning again. ‘So which one’s your room?’

Jean chased him up the stairs, catching him at the top and pushing him against the wall. Their shoes and Jeremy’s shirt got left in the hallway, and Jean carried him into his bedroom. Jeremy writhed in his arms, his legs wrapped around his waist, and made tiny little noises of desire as Jean tightened his grip. He lowered him on to the bed and Jeremy only tightened his legs around him, thrusting up against him and quietly begging for it against Jean’s lips. 

Clothing disappeared, their hands bumping against each other, and Jean found Jeremy as hard as he was, already leaking against his hand. He shivered and let Jeremy push against him, sliding his other hand beneath him, a question on his lips. 

‘When I left,’ Jeremy said, almost breathless against Jean’s mouth, ‘I wanted you so badly. I went home - I made it all the way home - but I couldn’t stop. I got off on - the thought of you. Just thinking about you.’

Jean reached across to the nightstand and grabbed the lube, because he had a feeling he knew what Jeremy was going to say next. 

‘I wanted to come back,’ Jeremy said, voice hoarse in his ear. ‘So I got ready. Oh, fuck,’ he groaned, arching back helplessly as Jean pressed a finger inside him. As promised, Jeremy was already half loose. The thought of him fingering himself and then coming all the way back to the club for him nearly drove Jean mad.

‘Oh fuck, I want you so bad,’ he whispered, his voice lighting fires inside Jean. ‘Every time you touched me, I - fuck, oh god,’ he whimpered, as Jean slipped another finger inside him, then another almost immediately, stretching him eagerly, unable to wait. Jeremy locked his legs around him and shook, whispering _please_ and _fuck_ and _Jean_ , and Jean was lost in a haze of heat and the feeling of Jeremy tight against him, everywhere. 

When he withdrew his hand Jeremy shivered at the unpleasant sensation but pushed back up against him, body so tightly wound he was almost vibrating. Jean slipped a pillow under his hips and kissed him softly until he stopped shaking, helping him to relax under his touch with lips pressing softly against him, reassuring, devoted. With gentle hands he stroked Jeremy’s cock, loosening him up so that his legs went slack around him. When he pushed in his lips were against Jeremy’s, and he got to feel them part in a silent O of pleasure as he felt the burning stretch of Jean inside him. 

After a few slow thrusts to make sure Jeremy was still as loose as he could be, Jean dropped his head to Jeremy’s shoulder and buried himself inside him. Jeremy cried out and clutched Jean’s shoulders, fingernails scraping hot across his back. Jean kissed his neck and let him writhe, holding him close as he bottomed out. Jeremy was so hot and seemed to be touching every part of him, and Jean could hardly breathe at how tight it was, the feeling of Jeremy letting him in, arching back and panting as he fucked him.

Jean rolled his hips and made Jeremy whimper, a gorgeous sound he could listen to forever. He did it again and again until he hit the spot that made Jeremy almost jump off the bed. Smiling against his mouth, Jean used his hands to pin him down and then slammed back into that same spot again and again until Jeremy was fisting the bedsheets and crying out with a voice gone hoarse from begging for more.

Allowing him a breather, Jean got a hand under Jeremy and lifted him until their positions were reversed. Jean moved backwards with Jeremy on top of him and sat up so his back was against the headboard. Jeremy sat up with him, half dazed, lips swollen and hair a mess, and Jean wanted to burn the image of Jeremy sitting on his cock into his brain forever. 

Jeremy recovered enough to reach over Jean’s shoulder to grip the headboard before Jean thrust up into him again. The hard press of Jeremy’s body against him combined with the look in his eyes when he fucked him had Jean’s body seizing up, heat and pleasure curling inside of him, and he could feel how close they both were. The feeling between them was heavy, filled with something deep and hot that Jean was probably too drunk to decipher - drunk on alcohol and on the way Jeremy looked at him, brown eyes half delirious with desire. He buried himself in Jeremy until he threw his head back and came between them, hot lines of come trickling down where Jean’s fist was wrapped around him. Jean eased off a bit as he breathed hard and shook in his arms, but when he drew his head back to look Jean in the eye he found something there that took over his limbs with the desire to chase it. They gripped each other as Jean fucked him hard, only lasting a half dozen more thrusts until he came with a grunt, shooting deep inside Jeremy, who moaned low in his ear and wrapped his arms around his neck, shivering. Their bodies flashed hot and cold, skin slick with sweat, and Jean rolled them over until they were lying down but kept his arms around Jeremy, holding him close against the feeling of him sliding out of his body. 

They lay on the bed, breathless and exhausted, heads pounding. Jeremy took Jean’s face in his hands and peppered his hot skin with uncoordinated, messy kisses. Of course Jeremy was the type to finish up with a “thanks for the sex” routine, Jean thought fondly. Despite being sticky and damp, Jean could have lain there until morning letting Jeremy snuggle him, but - 

‘Oh my god,’ Jeremy broke off in the middle of a kiss with something approaching an actual growl. ‘Jean, if your phone rings one more time I will destroy it.’

Jean laughed, because Jeremy’s mock rage was a bit like watching a kitten trying to roar. ‘I’ll have to get up,’ he reminded Jeremy gently, who frowned. 

‘True,’ he said. ‘Maybe stay here then.’ He clutched Jean a little tighter and smiled. Then the phone rang again from inside Jean’s pants on the floor, and Jeremy practically pushed him off the bed. 

Jean retrieved the phone and glared at Kevin’s name on the caller ID. He just missed the call, but he was sure there’d be another. He glanced back at Jeremy who had rolled on to his stomach and was watching from behind his arm.

‘Something to say?’

‘Just enjoying the view,’ Jeremy replied, raising his head a little to smirk at him. 

Kevin rang again and this time Jean picked up immediately. 

‘Kevin you’d better be fucking dying.’

‘The Ravens are all getting drug tested in the morning.’

It took a second for Jean to process that, then several more seconds for him to form words. 

‘Fuck,’ he said, suddenly sober as a judge. 

‘Yeah. We’re outside.’

‘Just the two of you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Shit. Give me a minute.’ He hung up and turned to Jeremy. ‘I’m going downstairs for literally two minutes to make them go away. You can shower if you want, it’s through there, but please don’t leave.’

Jeremy pushed himself up off the bed and stretched, arms over his head, and Jean genuinely forgot about everything for a moment. 

‘It’s cool,’ Jeremy said, climbing off the bed. ‘I know Kevin’s a bit of a drama llama. Go take care of it and then come back to me, yeah?’ He paused in front of Jean, then smiled and leaned in to kiss him. Jean kissed him back, his heart leaping back to life. He didn’t even mean to put his arms around him, but suddenly they were wrapped up in each other and making out, and Jean was starting to get hard again. 

There was a loud hammering at the door and several presses of the doorbell, and Jean groaned against Jeremy’s mouth. 

‘I’m starting to dislike Kevin,’ Jeremy admitted, and Jean had to laugh.

‘Ok,’ he said. ‘Ok. Hey.’ He caught Jeremy’s hand as he was about to leave. ‘Put on something of mine. Uh, that drawer.’ He inclined his head towards the drawer in question.

A slow smile spread across Jeremy’s face, and it wasn’t just flirting or being playful this time. 

‘Ok,’ he said, squeezing Jean’s hand. ‘I will.’

He disappeared into the en-suit, and Jean found his clothes and went barefoot down the stairs, snagging his cigarettes on the way in preparation for whatever fucking headache was awaiting him. 

Kevin and Thea were indeed on his front porch. Thea’s makeup wouldn’t dare smear, but her hair was dishevelled from running her hands through it and she looked ready to kill. Kevin’s expression was scarcely any better, but then Kevin always looked like the world was going to end on his watch. 

‘So, what the fuck is going on,’ Jean said, pushing out past him before he could try to come in. He shut the door quietly behind him and lit up, automatically offering one to Thea who took it gratefully. 

‘8am tomorrow morning,’ Thea said, looking grim. ‘Neither of us were checking the Raven group chat and no one was answering calls, but we ran into Jessica.’

‘Fuck,’ Jean said again, taking a long drag of his cigarette. It was just starting to dawn on him how bad this was. ‘I’m dead.’

‘I’ll stay with you the whole time,’ Thea promised. 

‘He probably doesn’t even think it was you,’ Kevin said, sounding disgusted. ‘He’ll just want someone to knock around, and you caused him hassle by not answering your phone. Which is aggravating, by the way,’ he added pointedly. 

‘I’m not apologising for that,’ Jean said bluntly. 

Kevin opened his mouth to argue but Thea said ‘No Kevin, shut up. He won me two hundred dollars tonight.’

‘You’re welcome,’ said Jean. 

‘You don’t have anything dodgy in your system do you?’ Kevin asked shrewdly, choosing to ignore that last. 

‘Shut up,’ Jean said, exasperated. ‘You think I’d skim off Riko? He’s the only one who needs drugs to perform around here.’

Kevin eyed him. ‘You say that like it’s my fault.’

Jean tapped his finger on his cigarette. ‘There’s a reason you jump to that conclusion every time,’ he said quietly, not wanting to fight about it but it was still absolutely Kevin’s fault. ‘You left. He got worse. It’s just what happened.’

Thea was silent, which made Jean’s words heavier. Kevin lowered his eyes. 

‘I’m not saying you didn’t make the right choice,’ Jean added, trying to take the sting out of his words. ‘I know you had more reason than any of us, with your dad and everything.’

‘I never wanted to make it worse for you,’ Kevin muttered, which was as close to an apology as he’d ever get. 

Jean sighed quietly. ‘I’m not looking for an apology from you. You don’t have to explain yourself. But you have to accept the fact that whenever we talk about this, whenever Riko is a problem again, you’re gonna be reminded of that.’

‘You can’t keep blaming yourself,’ Thea said. ‘It doesn’t make it easier on yourself, or on us. No one wants to hate you instead of him.’

They were quiet for a little bit, Jean and Thea smoking and Kevin studiously standing downwind. 

‘So 8am at Evermore?’ Jean asked finally, stubbing out his cigarette. 

Thea nodded. ‘I’ll pick you up,’ she said. ‘We can get your car on the way back.’

Jean met Kevin’s eyes. 

‘What if he gets caught?’ Kevin asked softly. 

Jean lifted a shoulder. ‘He won’t,’ he said. ‘This time.’

‘Do you think someone said something?’

Honestly, Jean wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had gotten wise to their game. The NCAA had people checking up on players all the time. Maybe Jean had been followed, maybe a stripper at any given club had talked, or maybe it even came from within.

‘This came out of nowhere,’ Jean lied. ‘And on a Thursday morning. Basically midweek for a team that plays on Saturdays. So, no, I think is is random.’ 

Thea looked relieved. ‘So you don’t think he’ll have any in his system then? He doesn’t have anything to really be worried about, if it’s just routine?’

Jean glanced at her, then shook his head. ‘Thea, he’s taking them all the time now. Just to keep up with us in practise.’

Kevin jerked his head angrily. ‘Are you sure?’

Jean nodded. ‘Trust me. Like I said, he’ll get away with it this time. But there are only so many officials you can buy, and his uncle won’t do it a second time. He’ll be frightened.’

Thea glanced at Kevin, then at Jean. ‘So … how bad is it going to be?’

Jean hugged his body, wishing suddenly for Jeremy. He knew Riko would lash out at the entire team, suspecting everyone, but in the end he would blame Jean, because he certainly wouldn’t be blaming himself. 

‘Bad,’ he replied. 

 

When he went back inside, he found lights on and doors open. 

‘Jeremy?’ he called cautiously. 

‘I found your cat,’ came the reply. 

Jeremy was in the living room. There were two glasses of water on the coffee table and he was crouched down beside Roux, who doing her best to push her face on to his face. 

‘Cats don’t normally like me,’ Jeremy explained in a hushed voice. 

‘How can you still be drunk?’ Jean asked.

Roux caught sight of Jeremy and raced over to him. She clawed her way up his leg and arm until she was perched on his shoulder, and bit his ear. 

‘Ow,’ he said. 

‘That was amazing,’ Jeremy said. ‘Here, I got you water.’

They rehydrated in silence, and then Jeremy spotted the piano.

‘Do you play?’ he asked.

‘Used to,’ Jean said. 

‘Is that a violin?’

‘It is.’

‘Do you play that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Will you - ’

‘No.’

Jeremy laughed, turning around to look at him. He was wearing a black Ravens t-shirt and a pair of Jean’s sweats. His neck was bruised from Jean’s mouth and his hair was damp, and he looked fucking gorgeous. 

‘If anyone saw you wearing that,’ Jean commented, indicating the t-shirt. Jeremy looked down at himself, then back up at Jean.

‘Yeah, that’s what’s scandalous about tonight,’ he said, amused. His eyes wandered, pausing momentarily on the smashed photo frame gathering dust on Jean’s coffee table. Jean braced himself for the question, but Jeremy surprised him by choosing not to pry, at least in that direction. ‘Hey, what did Kevin want?’

Jean lifted Roux off his shoulder and set her on the couch. ‘Uh, nothing important. Listen, I gotta go take care of some bullshit in the morning, but early, and it shouldn’t take too long.’

Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Oh yeah, that’s fine. I can go if you want, if that’s easier?’ he said, trying for humour but sounding a little uncertain. 

Jean crossed the room and touched his face. ‘That is the opposite of what I want,’ he said seriously. ‘If you’re not in my bed when I get back I’ll never play a scrimmage with you ever again.’

Jeremy stretched up and kissed him. ‘You weren’t that great anyways,’ he said. 

They went upstairs and climbed into bed, and god if it wasn’t just the best feeling to wrap his arms around Jeremy and feel him snuggle down against him. Jean set an alarm and cursed Riko to the depths of hell. 

‘Will you bring back breakfast?’ Jeremy yawned against him, his arm around Jean’s waist, and Jean knew that this was something he wanted every day forever. 

‘I’ll bring back all the breakfast. And my car.’

 


	3. Chapter 3

Despite his anxiety about Riko and the unfamiliarity of another person in his bed - in his arms, no less - Jean slept like the dead. His alarm was an assault, and he felt Jeremy stir beside him as he groped to silence it. The movement made Jeremy cling, and Jean bit down on a smile and the desire to stay as he felt his arms tighten around him, his face pushing up into his neck. 

‘I’ll be back soon,’ he whispered, kissing Jeremy’s tousled hair. He didn’t get a reply, which was probably a good thing. 

He resented having to wash the scent of Jeremy off his skin so soon, but it would not look good if he turned up smelling like sex and alcohol. He crept back through his dark room to find clothes, and had to pause for about a minute just to stare at the image of Jeremy, tangled in his sheets with the sweatpants abandoned, sleeping silently on his stomach with his hair tousled on the pillow. Seeing him like this, Jean could appreciate the strength in his limbs, the wiry cords of his muscle, but also the graceful lines and curves of him that had wrapped themselves so snugly around Jean last night. 

Thea was waiting for him outside. Jean got into the car and they drove silently to Evermore.

The drug test was routine. Jean had done one before, back when he’d first signed with the Ravens. It was a little more strange with the whole team there, especially because at least half of them knew there was actually something to be worried about. 

Jean avoided looking at Riko as much as possible, and Riko was able to play it cool when he needed to, so the confrontation didn’t happen until cups had been filled and the NCAA officials had signed off on their reports, checking everyone’s signature and counting heads one last time. Coach Moriyama acted like nothing was amiss - and Jean supposed there was a tiny chance that he didn’t actually know about the doping, however unlikely - and sent them all off with a warning to be back for practise on time, as though it were a normal day. For all intents and purposes, this was a random drug test. They were infrequent but not a rare occurrence. But Riko hated coincidences. 

For a moment, Jean thought he’d gotten away with it, or at least gotten a stay of execution. Riko might only catch him later, when the results came back negative and he at least didn’t have to worry about the bribe not working. He might even have calmed down enough to see sense, to know that Jean hadn’t slipped up or betrayed him. 

He and Thea were making for the exit, down the deserted length of corridor bordered by empty rooms from when Evermore used to be the Nest, and housed players full time. Some of the doors hung open, filled with nothing but bedframes and dust. The bowels of Evermore were scarcely used anymore, except as secret exits when the stadium was mobbed by press. Jean was following Thea and thought the footsteps behind him belonged to just another Raven making their exit. 

The blow caught him across the back of the head, stunning him and leaving him vulnerable to the hands that caught the back of his neck and shirt and shoved him into an empty room. He stumbled forward, falling to his knees as the door slammed behind him, a key twisting in the lock. He heard Thea hammering on the door and shouting as he turned to meet Riko’s cold rage. He managed to get to his feet at least before Riko started hitting him. 

Jean was strong. He knew how to take hits, how to minimise damage and defend. And by now, he knew how Riko fought, how his temper worked, where he’d aim for. His upper arms and shoulders absorbed the worst of the blows until Riko got dirty. He pulled Jean’s hair viciously and kicked his shin, hooking a foot around his leg to trip him. There was an exy stick left in the corner, a big heavy backliner’s racquet like the kind Jean used. It looked dusty, a practise racquet probably. Some of these rooms must have been used for storage, Jean thought dimly, as it swung towards him. 

The first blow he withstood; the second knocked him back to his knees. Furious, he caught the third in his hand though it jarred him right to the elbow, smacking painfully against his skin. He shoved back against Riko, enjoying the surprise in his eyes, and got to his feet before he could swing again.

‘Stop,’ he snapped, breathing heavily. He hurt everywhere but especially his head, both from the hangover and where Riko had hit him. ‘You know it wasn’t me.’

‘Do I?’ questioned Riko, before jabbing the butt of the racquet straight into Jean’s unprotected stomach. He grunted in pain, doubling over. Oh, how Jean longed to hit him back. But the cost would be too high.

‘Yes,’ he gasped out, staggering backwards. ‘If you’re under suspicion we all are, especially me.’

‘And are we?’ The racquet came down hard on his shoulder and he cursed himself for taking his eyes off Riko. 

‘No,’ he snarled, through gritted teeth. ‘It was fucking random, you paranoid fuck. Those things are messing with your brain.’

Indeed, Riko did look slightly deranged, eyes wide and darting. Jean didn’t care how much money he was able to throw around; they’d have a hard time convincing anyone to look the other way if Riko’s piss came out blue or something. 

He lowered the racquet so the butt was level with Jean’s eyes. He straightened, and the racquet followed. 

‘I am this close,’ Riko said. ’To putting you out for the rest of the season. So help me Moreau, I’ll break your legs.’

Once Jean would have called his bluff; there was no way the Riko would have taken out a player so integral to the team. 

‘It wasn’t me,’ Jean said, trying to keep his voice even while his body ached with pain. ‘I didn’t talk, and I didn’t slip up. This was random.’

Riko put the stick under his chin and tilted his head up, hard. 

‘The next time you don’t answer your phone,’ he said icily, ‘I’ll come over and shove this down your throat. And I’ll do worse to whatever fucking rent boy kept you distracted.’

Jean swallowed hard and held his gaze. 

‘Understood,’ he said. ‘Are we done?

Riko considered him, cocking his head. Jean thought the rage had finally dissipated. 

‘Almost,’ he said, and slammed the racquet into Jean’s face. 

 

Thea had to link him out to the car. It was all a bit much for Jean’s head and he passed out a little as she drove. He ended up back at her and Kevin’s apartment with a bag of ice pressed to his nose, and Abby Winfield, the Foxes team doctor, checking his pupil responses.

‘And he did this with an - ’

‘Exy stick, yeah,’ Jean replied thickly, trying not to blink as she shone a light in his eyes. Abby’s expression tightened but she didn’t suggest reporting Riko or anything, for which Jean was simultaneously grateful and suspicious about what Kevin might have told her. 

Thea and Kevin were talking quietly in the kitchen, but came in once Abby had left. 

‘I can drive you home,’ Thea said.

‘You can drive me to my car,’ Jean replied, standing up and putting down the ice. ‘It’s still at Palmetto stadium.’

‘I really don’t think you should be driving,’ Kevin argued. 

Jean made a face and winced. ‘I’m not concussed. I’ve had worse hangovers.’ Not true, but leaving a car with Raven plates out and about just wasn’t smart, especially in a Fox part of town. Jean was fond of his car. 

‘What are you going to tell Jeremy?’ Thea asked, once they were in the car and away from Kevin, who likely wouldn’t approve of telling Jeremy anything. 

‘The truth, or close to it,’ Jean admitted. ‘He’s honest, but if I ask him not to say anything, he won’t.’

Thea was quiet for a minute, then said ‘So it’s serious then.’

Jean frowned at her. ‘What?’

Thea glanced back at him. ‘Jean, you and Kevin didn’t speak for three weeks when he found out you’d thrown the semis to protect him from Riko. That and the doping, they’re huge fucking secrets to protect, and I’ve never seen you so anxious about keeping them. Now you’re just casually talking about telling Jeremy Knox, of all people? The patron saint of Exy and all things good and fair?’ She shook her head. ‘You’d better not just be thinking with your dick.’

Jean glanced out the window, her words sinking in. Maybe he _was_ concussed. 

Thea dropped him off at his car with a sharp warning not to take it over thirty. He sank into the driver’s seat and just sat there for a few minutes, thinking it over. Realistically, he didn’t know Jeremy that well. But he wanted to know him, and there was no way he was getting away with crawling back into bed beside him with two black eyes and shadows blooming under the scrapes and cuts on his cheekbones without some sort of explanation. 

He drove to get breakfast while he thought it over. By the time he made it back to his house it was ten o’clock, and Jean felt like he’d been hit by a car. 

He dropped the food off in the kitchen, checking as he did so that Roux had food and water, then staggered up the stairs. He had to stop at the top to even out his breathing, wincing as he felt the welts across his ribs and arms protest and sting. He walked gingerly down the hall and into his room, and was startled slightly by Jeremy, who was standing at the window holding Roux and tickling her throat while she purred thunderously. 

‘You’re walking funny,’ Jeremy said, not immediately looking up. When he did, he almost dropped the cat. 

‘What the - ‘ His eyes went wide and he put Roux down. ‘Jesus Christ, did you get in an accident? Are you ok?’

‘I’m ok,’ Jean said, letting Roux climb up his leg and arm as usual, wincing as he took her weight. ‘You’re getting fat,’ he complained, removing her after a moment and setting her down in the hall. ‘Go kill something.’

When he straightened up Jeremy was there, worry tightening his face into an expression that Jean hated himself for putting there.

‘You gonna tell me what happened?’ he said, hand reaching up to stroke ever so gently over the bruise on Jean’s cheek. Jean caught his wrist and pressed his face into his palm, closing his eyes and just enjoying it. 

‘Riko and I got into a fight,’ he said, still with his eyes closed. ‘It’s ok.’

Because he just couldn’t bear to say it, to Jeremy of all people. That they were cheating, that Jean was helping him do it, that he couldn’t say no to Riko, not even to defend himself. Easing the burden on his shoulders would mean nothing if Jeremy had to carry it. 

He opened his eyes. Jeremy looked quietly outraged. 

‘What about?’ he asked, his voice low and restrained. ‘Are you alright? You could have a head injury.’

‘I do have a head injury,’ Jean admitted. ‘Fox doc took a look at me though, she said I’m fine.’

Jeremy didn’t look convinced. ‘Jean,’ he said gently. ‘This isn’t ok. He could have seriously hurt you.’ He frowned, suddenly suspicious. ‘I’ve seen you take hits on the court before. Were you … Jean, did you even fight back?’

Jeremy was so nice, so kind, that Jean sometimes forgot that he was smart, too. Quick as a whip.

He took Jeremy’s hand and pulled a little. ‘Come downstairs,’ he said. ‘I bought food.’

He turned to go, but Jeremy pulled him back. 

‘Hey,’ he said softly, and then he was sliding his arms around him so gently, putting his chin on his shoulder and holding him with such affection that Jean didn’t know what to do with it. He hugged him back, suddenly overwhelmed, emotion tugging on thoughts that had lain unspoken for years. 

‘I can’t fight back,’ he whispered dully, gazing up at the ceiling. ‘My family owes his, so he owns me. I do what he says.’

Jeremy didn’t respond, didn’t ask questions. Instead he started rubbing slow circles on his back and pressed his lips to his neck, giving Jean the kind of comfort he hadn’t felt in years. He trembled with exhaustion and pain, leaning into Jeremy. And though it made his heart feel like a stone in his chest, he had to say it.

‘If you want to go,’ he said. ‘You can. You should. You don’t have to deal with this.’

Jeremy went still, then drew back. He fixed Jean with a steely gaze that reminded him that Jeremy was captain of the Trojans for a reason. 

‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to go. And not because you look like you need medical attention.’

Jean smiled. ‘Are you hungry?’

Jeremy shook his head. 

‘Good. Me neither.’

They spent the rest of the morning in bed. Jeremy undressed Jean and kissed every cut and bruise, then put his mouth around Jean’s cock and teased an orgasm out of him, making him shake and clutch Jeremy’s hair as he swallowed every bit. They kissed and talked and kissed a bit more, and then Jeremy went and fetched the food and made coffee and they fed each other strawberries and got crumbs on the sheets. By the time they had to get ready for training, Jean was hardly in any pain at all.

Jean drove Jeremy to Palmetto so he could get his car. Before they parted, Jeremy leaned across and kissed him long and slow, then asked ‘Can I see you again tonight?’

Jean hadn’t even considered the possibility that he wouldn’t be seeing him again as soon as possible. He nodded quickly, smiling against his lips. ‘Yeah, come over. We can have dinner.’

Jeremy rolled his eyes. ‘You’ll be dead on your feet after training,’ he pointed out, not looking amused. ‘You’re coming over, and _I_ ’ _ll_ cook. Besides, I haven’t seen my dog since yesterday evening. She worries.’

Jean kissed him again, and then again, and it was a few more minutes before Jeremy finally got into his own car and drove away. 

 

Training was harder than usual, owing to everything from the beating Jean had taken to the tense, nervous expressions on his teammate’s faces. Riko ran them all ragged but for once wasn’t yelling at them or taunting them. Jean thought he looked so nervous that if he opened his mouth he might be sick. In contrast, something inside Jean’s chest felt lighter than it had in a while. Yeah, they might all get done for doping. The whole team would come under investigation, probably their next season would be ruined or delayed and they’d all lose sponsorship. But Riko would be out of his life. And if nothing came of it? Well then he still had a six figure salary and a future and Jeremy. 

Jeremy. He was all Jean could think about. Burying his head in the game only lasted for four hours of practise and two hours in the gym. Even then he found himself staring at nothing, just thinking about him. Remembering his smile, the way his hands touched him, the kindness in his eyes. It would have been embarrassing if Jean cared even a little bit. He was nearly 25 and he could count the number of positive experiences he’d enjoyed since coming to America on one hand. Meeting Thea was one. Kevin was another, and Renee. His cat. Exy. It felt nice to be able to move on to his other hand. 

He showered and changed at home, and gave Roux some attention since he figured he wouldn’t be coming home that night. He tuned his violin and played the few songs that made Roux sit up straight like she understood.

‘Wait, which one is your favourite,’ he murmured, plucking absently at the strings, trying to remember the tune. ‘Ah…’

Roux immediately got up and ran to the door in protest.

‘Right, ok, I’m sorry,’ said Jean, amused. ‘Oh shut up. How about this one?’

She deigned to listen to the rest of it from the doorway, ready to run if Jean switched to a melody she didn’t like. ‘You’re so hard to please,’ he commented. He glanced at the piano, lid closed and likely incredibly out of tune, but decided he wasn’t quite that blissful yet. It felt nice to play his violin again, though. It was calming, despite the fact that his fingers couldn’t remember half the chords, the strings biting into his fingers and reminding him he’d gone soft. 

A knock on his front door followed by a persistent ringing of the bell made him pause. There were only two people that obnoxious in his life. Kevin Day and - 

‘Riko,’ he said, opening the door. He felt a trickle of fear slide like ice down his spine as Riko shoved past him, eyes wandering around the house. 

‘I’m bored,’ he said. ‘Let’s go out.’

Unlikely, thought Jean. This was Riko up to something and needing muscle to back him up. 

‘Can’t,’ he said shortly. ‘I’m busy tonight.’

Riko snorted, turning on him. ‘Busy? I don’t think so.’

Maybe it was Riko’s certainty that Jean would drop everything for him, or the fact that Riko continued to hold his parent’s debt over his head despite all their years together. How had Riko never learned to like him even a little bit, Jean wondered. He’d never put a toe out of line until recently. He’d been friendly and supportive when Riko was at his most normal, and weathered the storm when he was otherwise. What more did he have to do?

‘Not tonight,’ he repeated, and saw a flicker of annoyance cross Riko’s face. He was in a good mood, Jean realised. The bribe must have gone through.

‘We’re going,’ he said. But Jean stood his ground. 

‘Like I said. I have plans.’

Riko pointed at him. ‘Now is not the time for your attitude,’ he growled, good mood gone. ‘And just for that, you’re buying tonight.’

‘You can’t tell me what to do,’ Jean snapped. 

‘Yes I can,’ said Riko bluntly. ‘Did you take a knock to the head? Forget who you are?’

‘I know who I am,’ Jean said through gritted teeth, dimly registering his amazement that Riko was ignoring the fact that he had in fact beaten Jean unconscious that morning. ‘And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m not Kevin Day. You can’t break my hands and expect me to care. I’ll just find something else to do with my time.’

Riko’s expression turned deathly cold. He closed the space between them and stared up at Jean; he was a lot shorter than Jean was, but the menace pouring off him more than made up for the height difference. 

‘And what about your family?’ he said, voice like ice. ‘They can’t work off their debt anymore. That’s on your shoulders now, Moreau. Are we really having this conversation again?’

They’d had it before, just once. It hadn’t ended well that time either. 

‘Yeah, they’re dead,’ Jean said shortly, his mouth twisting around the words. ‘Thanks for the reminder.’

‘What’s got you all twisty?’ Riko asked, wrinkling his nose, and for a moment Jean thought he might be able to backpedal. But Riko was no fool. His eyes made the connection so fast Jean’s heart sank.

‘Wait,’ he whispered. ‘You’ve been fucking someone. And now it’s serious.’ His face turned into a twisted version of mirth. ‘Oh please, please tell me you’re just following your dick and I don’t actually have to beat your brains out.’

It sounded like an idle threat, but Jean could see Riko’s fists forming. Choosing someone else over him? He was probably fuming. 

‘Was the Master pleased with the “random” drug test?’ Jean said delicately, deliberately making his accent stronger like he knew Riko hated. ‘I wonder if he’ll be up for paying my hospital bills just because I said no to you. I get your drugs. I cover your tracks. Just leave me the fuck alone, will you?’

The tinge of desperation in his voice at the end ruined it. Too much emotion. That had been Kevin’s problem. 

Fire exploded behind Riko’s eyes. He threw the first punch, but this time Jean hit him back. 

It was so incredibly fucking satisfying, but the horror kicked in when he saw Riko drag his head up and spit blood on the floor. Riko’s life was worth more to the Moriyama’s than Jean’s entire existence; he couldn’t give him so much as a sprained ankle without paying for it. He braced himself for Riko’s attack, and almost stumbled in surprise when the doorbell rang. 

They suffered two rings and an angry series of knocks before Riko moved. He yanked the door open, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smearing the blood as he did so.

Kevin was standing on the other side, with two very bored looking Minyards on either side of him and Neil standing a little further back. Jean blinked and saw his entire life flash before his eyes, but Riko shoved past them all like he couldn’t see them. Their heads turned to follow him - all except Andrew, who was on his phone - and Kevin kept watching until Riko’s tail lights had disappeared down the street, engine gunning obnoxiously. 

‘The fuck you doing here?’ Jean asked, lungs aching from holding his breath.

Kevin’s head whipped around, but he looked too angry to speak.

‘Kevin wanted to check you weren’t dead,’ Aaron replied shortly. ‘Saw Riko’s car in the driveway.’

That explained the twins and Neil. For one bizarre moment Jean had thought they’d all volunteered to check up on him willingly. 

‘Are you ok?’ demanded Kevin, finding his voice. Jean nodded, unable to believe the bullet he’d just dodged. 

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’

Telling Kevin would be pointless, he thought. 

‘Come over to ours tonight,’ Kevin said, meaning him and Thea. ‘We’ll cook, or something.’

All the best intentions, and utterly graceless. That was Kevin.

Jean smiled, feeling weirdly high. ‘No, thank you. I’ve got a date.’

Kevin narrowed his eyes. ‘With Jeremy?’

Aaron raised his eyebrows. ‘Knox?’

‘No, the other Jeremy,’ Kevin said testily, indicating how stressed he was. Andrew flicked his ear rather hard and Jean tried not to smile again. 

‘I’d better go,’ he said, glancing at the time on his phone.

‘Should clean the blood off your face first,’ Neil commented, who looked more than ready to leave but gave Jean a look of grim empathy anyways.

Jean nodded slowly, but his eyes were on Kevin.

‘Everything ok?’ he asked softly in French. Jean liked to tease Kevin, but knowing that he would have come barging up here even if he’d been on his own to break up whatever he thought was happening inside reminded Jean why he liked Kevin so much. 

Kevin’s expression was troubled when he looked up at Jean. ‘You looked like shit this morning,’ he said abruptly, in perfectly accented French. Better than mine, Jean used to tease him. ‘And then he has the nerve to come over and …’ he trailed off, shaking his head. The others had headed straight back to the car once they’d switched languages, but Jean replied in French because it had always seemed more natural between the two of them.

‘Are you ok?’ he asked, concerned. ‘It’s just Riko’s usual bullshit, Kevin. I can handle him.’

Kevin shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘I’m just sick of having this conversation with you,’ he said, avoiding Jean’s gaze. ‘I’m sick of seeing your bruises.’ 

The silence hung heavy and pointed between them. Roux flicked Jean’s leg with her tail before winding herself around Kevin’s legs. Kevin frowned; he was slightly allergic to cats. 

Jean wanted to say it was ok, but it wasn’t. He hated it too; hanging out with the Foxes - and with Jeremy - only highlighted how little enjoyment he was getting out of every other aspect of his life. Exy was a chore; his teammates were tolerable but Riko’s shadow fell in every sunny spot Jean managed to find at Evermore. And those were the good days. 

There was nothing Kevin could do. Riko had nearly ended his career when he broke his hand, and he’d grown up with his abuse. At least Jean had spent his early years in France. Kevin didn’t even have happy memories to fall back on. 

So there was no point in telling him anything.

‘I’m fine,’ he said easily. ‘Really,’ he went on, when Kevin looked up. ‘I’m ok. I’ve been doing this for years, Kevin. You think I still let him get to me?’

Kevin wasn’t getting off his doorstep easily, but Jean managed it after a brief hug and a promise to call him more often. Truthfully, between Exy practise plus Riko, and the fact that Kevin was actually in a relationship that required attention, Jean and Kevin were lucky to see each other once a month during the season. He waved him off, wondering how he’d manage to fit Kevin in if things with Jeremy got serious.

Jeremy.

He was almost on time. Just ten minutes late. But as someone who lived at Riko’s beck and call, this practically had Jean sweating. Jeremy’s text - _Cooking_ _up_ _a_ _storm_ , _let_ _yourself_ _in_! -  had come just as he was getting into his car, and he broke speed limits rather than reply to it. 

A joyful volley of barks greeted him as he stepped into the house. Buttercup came charging out of the kitchen, skidding on the wooden floor, and tackled his legs. She was scrawny despite the fur - Jean barely felt the thud. He crouched down and whispered into her fur, ‘Where’s Jeremy?’

For a brief moment, Jean wondered if being drunk had made this morning and the night before seem more than it was. The head injury didn’t help, he thought anxiously. He found himself struggling to recall where their lines were, wondering what Jeremy would be like around him sober. He was sore from Riko’s attack - both of them - and his muscles were still wound up from practise. Riko always needed less time to warm down than Jean, and fussed at him to hurry up as soon as he was done, so Jean often left practise and had to go for a slow jog afterwards to finish up. He hadn’t had time for that today, and he was feeling it now as he stood with a wince. Jeremy caught his expression when he poked his head around the kitchen door.

‘Hey - you still sore?’ he asked, concern creasing his face, and Jean felt very hard done by. He’d been looking forward to that smile all day.

‘Stiff,’ he replied. ‘From practise.’ He shrugged like Jeremy knew how it was. 

‘You wanna stretch out a little bit?’ Jeremy asking, coming into the hall and whistling for Buttercup. He caught her collar and shooed her back into the kitchen, then approached Jean who was still standing at the door. 

‘I’m good,’ said Jean, shrugging a little. He hung his coat on the coat stand - because Jeremy had an actual wooden coat stand - and smiled at Jeremy. ‘Hi.’

Jeremy grinned. ‘Hi,’ he returned. He spared Jean the trouble of wondering where precisely they stood by pulling him in for a kiss. Jeremy’s lips were so soft and so welcome after Jean’s day that he practically melted into him, the tension leaving his body immediately. He could feel Jeremy’s smile against his lips and he deepened the kiss, pulling Jeremy against him. His hands settled on Jeremy’s hips as Jeremy’s fell on his shoulders, and they took their time saying hello.

Maybe Jeremy couldn’t read his mind but he sure could read his body. When he pulled back from the kiss he slid his arms around Jean’s body and rubbed his back slowly, pressing his lips to the skin at the base of Jean’s neck. Jean felt something loosen in his chest, something that had been unwinding ever since Jeremy had kissed him last night - maybe even since Jeremy had first let his hand rest on Jean’s in his bedroom. 

‘Hungry?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Yeah, what is that?’

‘Hmm?’

Jean smiled. ‘This,’ he replied, catching Jeremy’s mouth in another kiss. He could taste something sweet on his tongue. Jeremy made a noise of amusement and kissed him back before answering.

‘I like to sample as I cook,’ he admitted, in between Jean pressing kisses to his mouth, his cheek, then trailing down his jaw. ‘I’m making, uh, penne a lá vodka …’ he stumbled over his words as Jean’s lips found his neck. ‘Thought it might be something … you’d enjoy …’ He inhaled a little sharply as Jean applied a little more pressure, then sighed when he licked over it, kissing it better. 

‘You know me well,’ Jean said quietly, before raising his head to look Jeremy in the eye. ‘I missed you today.’ Was it weird to admit that? It was the truth.

Jeremy smiled, and it hit Jean right in the chest. ‘Me too. Come on.’ He took Jean’s hand for the short walk down the hall to the kitchen. He raised it to his lips to kiss his fingers, and Jean’s heart just about exploded until Jeremy frowned. ‘These are new,’ he said, eyeing the split skin on Jean’s knuckles from where he’d hit Riko not so long ago. ‘Are you ever not fighting?’ he added teasingly, but Jean still felt the need to explain himself. For some reason, he didn’t want to be anything but honest with Jeremy. As someone who didn’t enjoy explaining himself, it was a weird sensation. 

‘Yeah, uh, Riko came over earlier,’ Jean admitted, as Jeremy turned back to the neat cooking area. He glanced over his shoulder looking surprised as he did so.

‘Oh yeah?’ he said. ‘Do you two fight as a rule every time you hang out, or?’

‘Not every time,’ muttered Jean, thinking about how Jeremy called it “hanging out”, and how strange it was to apply that term to what he and Riko did. He watched Jeremy twist the cap off a bottle of vodka and deftly pour just the right amount into the pan. Jeremy was focused on what he was doing, making sure the flames didn’t get too high, and it was oddly relaxing to lean against the counter and watch him. Buttercup was looking out at them from inside a small, dark room off to the side; Jeremy could see a big freezer inside, beside a dog bed and numerous chewed toys. Jean clicked his tongue at her and she did a cartoonish run on the spot in her haste to get out to him.

‘You’re spoiling her,’ said Jeremy, and Jean could hear the smile in his voice. ‘I don’t normally let her roam around the kitchen while I cook.’

‘Why not?’ asked Jean, sitting down on a chair and getting his hands in the soft fur around Buttercup’s ears.

‘Because she trips me up,’ said Jeremy. ‘You know that thing cats do, where they wrap themselves around your legs?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Yeah, it’s not as cute with dogs. She gave me a concussion once. And ruined dinner.’

Jean laughed as Buttercup rolled her eyes towards Jeremy, like she knew she wasn’t supposed to be in the kitchen. Jeremy poured him a drink - vodka tonic, easy on the tonic - and Jean appreciated the fact that Jeremy, a beer drinker, had bothered to buy what he knew Jean liked. 

Buttercup was creeping over to Jeremy, who pointed firmly at her little room and said ‘Go.’ Buttercup started to sidle back towards Jean, hoping he’d let her stay, but he gave her a little push towards her room anyways. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Allez.’ Buttercup hung her head sadly and retreated. Jeremy rolled his eyes at the theatrics. 

‘Listen to that,’ he said, indignant, as Buttercup whined quietly. ‘Nothing wrong with her. Full bowl of food there behind her. Nothing wrong …’

Jean couldn’t take his eyes off Jeremy. Everything he said made him smile, every movement caught his eye. He was at least as tall as Jean, and built like every other Exy player, but something about his face, the grace of his movement, made Jean think of something soft and gentle, something that made Jeremy seem smaller than he actually was. It was strange, since Jean had literally been on the receiving end of one of Jeremy’s merciless bodychecks. He’d felt the strength of his arms when he’d pinned him down on the bed, the muscles in his legs when they’d wrapped around Jean’s waist … 

Jean took a long drink and tried to keep it in his pants at least until they’d eaten. 

When Jeremy served up the food Jean thanked him in French, unthinking, and Jeremy stopped everything to plant a kiss on his lips. 

‘What was that for?’ Jean smiled, bemused, when Jeremy pulled away.

‘Uh, nothing,’ Jeremy replied, looking uncharacteristically flustered. He waved his hand like it wasn’t a big deal as he sat down, then shook his head. ‘That just sounded nice.’

It wasn’t the first time Jean had heard that, but it was the first time hearing it from someone he actually liked. 

‘Slips out sometimes,’ Jean admitted. ‘Mostly when I’m talking to my cat.’

‘And in bed.’

Jean looked up, startled. ‘What?’

Jeremy grinned at him. ‘Yeah, you didn’t realise?’

Jean looked down at his food again. ‘Well that’s embarrassing,’ he muttered. 

Jeremy kicked him gently under the table. ‘No it’s not,’ he chided. Jean expected him to say something like “it’s hot”, because that’s what people he slept with usually said. 

‘You don’t feel comfortable speaking French?’ Jeremy asked. Jean stalled by trying the food.

‘This is really good,’ he said. 

‘Jean.’

Jean met his gaze. It wasn’t pressing or insistent; Jeremy wasn’t demanding anything. But he looked curious, a little concerned, and he hadn’t touched his food. 

Jean rolled his eyes. ‘Riko hates it,’ he admitted. 

Jeremy frowned. ‘Why?’

Jean shrugged. ‘He can’t understand it,’ he said, taking another bite of his dinner. Jeremy was still frowning. 

’So he doesn’t, what, let you speak French?’

Jean knew how that sounded, but once again he found himself uninterested in being anything other than honest with Jeremy. 

‘That’s about it, yeah,’ he said. He took a sip of his drink and eyed Jeremy over the rim. He had a determined set to his mouth now, and Jean cursed Riko for adding tension to the evening already. 

They ate in silence after that. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Jean was very aware that Jeremy was thinking about what he’d said, and that it wasn’t sitting well with him. When their plates were clear, Jeremy spoke up.

‘Listen, Jean,’ he said, leaning forward. ‘I’m not asking you to tell me everything. Clearly you have a complicated relationship with Riko that’s none of my business, but …’ He paused, sounding frustrated. ‘I mean, he hits you, he controls what you do and who you hang out with, he clearly causes friction between you and Kevin, and he’s messing with your game. Yes he is, don’t lie,’ he added with a stab of his finger, before Jean could protest. ‘I’m not asking you to explain, I’m just … I don’t know,’ he finished, scrubbing a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to pressure you or whatever. It just - ‘ he made a noise of frustration ‘ - kind of makes my blood boil, seeing your face like that.’ 

Jeremy was being serious, but Jean couldn’t help smiling. 

‘What?’

‘You,’ Jean replied simply. When Jeremy looked confused, he went on, ‘I’m not laughing at you. I just … I don’t like talking about it much. About Riko, I mean. I’m not used to it. But he’s interfering with us, so you deserve to know.’

‘Jean, it’s fine, you don’t have to,’ Jeremy said hurriedly, but Jean shushed him. He pushed out his chair and beckoned to Jeremy. Jeremy stood up, that little frown still on his face, but came over willingly enough. Jean caught his hand and pulled him down on to his lap. Despite his concern, a little smile lit up Jeremy’s face as he straddled him, kissing him automatically as Jean’s hands found his waist. He wrapped his arms around Jean’s neck and pressed their foreheads together as Jean spoke.

‘My family worked for Riko’s,’ he began quietly, and it was hard to feel like this was a big issue when having Jeremy in his lap made him feel so content. ‘And, without going into the bullshit financial affairs, I was sold to Tetsuji to help pay off what my family couldn’t make up. I never really got the details - I was only eight, I didn’t know what was going on. For so long, it was me, Kevin, and Riko. Kevin and Riko were always in the spotlight, but it was a little easier for me. Riko was never on me like he was with Kevin.’ He paused, because Jeremy had drawn back and was looking at him intently. 

‘Then Kevin decided he’d had enough of Riko, and left,’ he said. It sounded so simple, to just say it like that. ‘It wasn’t as obvious when we were in college, but Kevin stopped taking shit from Riko a long time ago. He only signed with the Ravens because of me, really. Because I stopped being able to say no to Riko even longer ago.’

He didn’t want to go on, because of how it made him sound, but there was that stubborn honesty again.

‘There’s no way I’ll ever be able to pay off what my family owes,’ Jean explained. ‘And Riko’s worth far more to the Ravens than I’ll ever be. So it’s just easier to keep him happy. If Riko’s happy, the team plays better, and Kevin can stop feeling guilty about abandoning me, or whatever.’ He left out the part about the drugs because there was just no way he could bear Jeremy’s expression after admitting that.

Jeremy sighed, and his hand came up to stroke Jean’s cheek. His brown eyes were troubled but when he spoke his voice was warm, and so unbearably tender that Jean felt his heart clench. 

‘You’re far better than he deserves,’ he said quietly, hand on Jean’s face. 

‘Who, Riko?’

Jeremy shrugged a little. ‘Any of them. All of them.’ Jean stared at him and Jeremy glanced away, seeming a little embarrassed. ‘So what happened tonight then?’

Jean hesitated, then said ‘He wanted to go out, and I told him I had plans. He wasn’t happy.’

Jeremy blinked, taking his hand away. ‘Wait, so you let him hit you because you had plans with me?’

Jean shook his head, and this time he was the one taking Jeremy’s face in his hand, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. 

‘No,’ he said. ‘But that’s why I hit him back.’

Jeremy’s breathing hitched a little, and he surged in to kiss Jean. Their lips met in a gasp, mouths opening for each other, and Jeremy moved against him urgently, bracing himself against Jean’s broad shoulders. Jean held his face in both hands and kissed him breathless, and Jeremy ground his hips against him eagerly as he felt them both getting hard. 

‘God, you’re amazing,’ Jean breathed against him as Jeremy mouthed at his neck. Jeremy murmured an agreement and Jean laughed, pinching his waist gently. Jeremy twitched in his arms, almost falling, and Jean raised his eyebrows. 

‘Ticklish?’

‘Don’t.’

Jean couldn’t help himself. Jeremy’s laughter was a delight; he tried to scramble off him and would have fallen again if not for Jean’s strong arms around him. Jean let him stand but chased right after him, pinning him against the counter and kissing down his neck. Jeremy leaned back for him, breathing hard from laughter and desire, and wrapped an arm around Jean to keep him pressed against him. Jean reached down to cup the bulge in Jeremy’s jeans, palming him slowly until Jeremy groaned deep in his throat.

‘Fuck, Jean,’ he ground out, breath catching in his throat. He was wearing a half-smile that only slipped when he bit his lip against another groan as Jean pressed his hand a little harder. 

‘Are we having dessert?’ Jean asked delicately.

Jeremy laughed, and Jean felt it against his chest. ‘Well I know what I’m having,’ he grinned. He grabbed the neck of Jean’s shirt and pulled him into the living room, kissing him as they went. Jean backed him into the wall first and they laughed against each other, Jean cradling Jeremy’s head in apology. 

‘I’ll make that up to you,’ he said, smiling against Jeremy’s mouth. 

‘You’d better.’

Jean pushed Jeremy down on to the couch and wasted no time finding his zipper. Jeremy slipped his fingers through Jean’s hair as Jean nosed at the hard outline of his cock in his underwear, mouthing at the head until the fabric grew damp. Jeremy was half-laughing and cursing him out, but his fingers tightened in Jean’s hair and his hips jerked as Jean started to drag his underwear down with his teeth. 

He moved back up for another kiss, fingers working quickly at the buttons on his shirt. Jeremy broke the kiss only to whip his own t-shirt off and then wrapped a hand around Jean’s neck to tug him back down. Their bare chests pressed together as Jeremy kissed him hungrily, slipping his tongue into his mouth and moaning when his now exposed cock became trapped between them.

It was fun, just making out like this, Jean thought. Usually it was straight to the whole point for him, but he loved the feeling of Jeremy’s lips against his, how his hands roamed Jean’s body, pressing and dragging fingernails and coming up to tug his hair. They smiled against each other and whispered little things, mostly what they wanted to do to each other but also dumb stuff like ‘Your hair smells really nice’ and ‘I love how soft your skin is’. Jeremy had a scattering of moles on his shoulders and neck that Jean couldn’t get enough of, and he loved the way Jeremy was constantly pulling at his hair, running his fingers through it and getting it all messed up. Jean didn’t mind; he kind of wanted to bite Jeremy’s ears, they were so cute. 

He slipped a hand down between them and started to stroke Jeremy’s cock, slowly at first to see his reaction. Jeremy stiffened at first and then relaxed, his whole body arching back into a stretch. He made a very pleased sound when Jean started to move down his body again, trailing kisses across his ribs and down his happy trail until he was nosing at the hair of his crotch, mouth wandering slowly towards the base of his cock. He pressed slow kisses to the inside of Jeremy’s thighs as he pulled his jeans and underwear down and threw them away. He got up on the couch properly and hooked Jeremy’s legs over his shoulders before wrapped his fist firmly around the base of his shaft and taking the head of his cock into his mouth.

Jeremy’s hips automatically thrust upwards but Jean held him down with a noise of amusement. He licked the slit delicately, enjoying Jeremy’s weak cursing, before twisting his mouth slightly, teasing it. He let Jeremy’s cock slid slowly back into his mouth, pressing his tongue to the underside and hollowing his cheeks to make the slide as tight as possible. Jeremy’s thighs twitched around him as he lowered his head further, excruciatingly slow. His own cock was throbbing in his pants, probably leaking at this stage, but Jeremy’s reactions were too much fun. He was so loud - was Jean forgetting that about the other night, or had he just been too drunk? If so, he planned to never drink again. Jeremy was gorgeous like this, head thrown back and biting his knuckles, mumbling curses out of the corner of his swollen lips. Jean would come in his own pants if he had to, because this was too good to give up even for a minute. 

He drew back to tongue the slit of Jeremy’s cock again and felt Jeremy’s fingers find their way to Jean’s hair again. The scrape against his scalp made him shiver with pleasure, and he bent his head down until he’d swallowed his entire cock. The minor choking sensation was inconsequential compared to Jeremy’s reaction. He half sat up, fingers clenching in Jean’s hair, a broken gasp on his lips that sounded like Jean’s name. Jean ignored him, bobbing his head and taking him all in every time, one hand on Jeremy’s chest and the other on his hip, keeping him pressed down. He flicked Jeremy’s nipple while he was at it, and blinked in surprise when his whole body jerked as hard as it had when the head of his cock had hit the back of Jean’s throat. 

He pulled off very slowly, and met Jeremy’s eyes with a wicked grin on his face. 

‘Go away,’ said Jeremy weakly.

‘But that was so lovely,’ Jean murmured, moving up to hover over him again. He captured his mouth in a kiss, working his cock slowly with one hand, and with the other he found Jeremy’s left nipple. He rubbed it with his thumb and Jeremy immediately started squirming. Jean grinned, rubbing a little harder, and Jeremy almost threw him off. 

‘Please, oh god,’ he begged, humour still alive in his voice because he knew Jean was fucking with him. But Jean couldn’t go anywhere without getting his mouth around that. He bent his head and licked Jeremy’s nipple, arms ready to pin him when Jeremy’s body bucked again. He teased it so gently with his lips and teeth, licking over it repeatedly until Jeremy’s breathing was a mess, his chest heaving against Jean’s and his cock leaking on to his chest. 

Jean saw his hand disappear and then his own body jerked as he felt Jeremy working his zipper down and sliding into his underwear. He exhaled loudly as Jeremy’s slim fingers wrapped around his cock, pulling him out and pushing his clothing down. Jean kicked off his pants and let Jeremy take him in his hand, working him slowly and unevenly due to Jean’s mouth finding his nipple once more. Jean broke off his attentions with a moan as Jeremy took both of them in his hand, pressing their cocks together in one loose, hot fist.

‘Oh, god,’ Jean groaned, head dropping forward. ‘Jeremy.’

‘Fuck, that feels good,’ breathed Jeremy, sliding his fist down, holding them tightly together. Jean thrust up with his hips - he couldn’t help it - and the slide of his cock against Jeremy’s had them both shaking. Jean slid his hand around the back of Jeremy’s neck, holding their bodies together, and press his other palm flat against his chest. Jeremy held them together in his fist and slid his other hand into Jean’s hair, apparently his favourite place to go. They started to move together, Jean thrusting his hips slowly as Jeremy moved his fist, and oh god, Jean thought wildly, this is the only way to go. He could get kicked off the Ravens and he wouldn’t care. He could die tomorrow and he wouldn’t care, if he could have this tonight. This tight, wet heat, Jeremy’s body trembling and warm in his arms, pressing close to him and whispering his name in his ear. 

‘Fuck, you are fucking gorgeous,’ Jean forced out, on the tail end of a gasp as Jeremy twisted his fist around them. He pressed his mouth to Jeremy’s, hard, slipping his tongue in so Jeremy could taste himself. ‘God - fuck - I’m gonna come.’

Jeremy nodded, screwing his eyes shut before exhaling loudly and tilting his head back. His neck was flushed red and he looked utterly depraved. Their skin was slick and pressed together, and the heat was driving Jean mad. 

‘Fuck - come here - ‘ Jeremy could hardly form words, but tugged Jean’s head down to his shoulder, urging him to go faster. Jean whispered curses and praise in French, and Jeremy clung to him so hard it almost hurt. 

Jeremy came first, crying out so beautifully as his body tensed and shook beneath him. Jean held him tightly as he fucked his fist, letting Jeremy’s cock slip out when it became over sensitive. He could feel the wetness on his chest, and he briefly considered pulling away until Jeremy’s fingers tightened around him once more. 

‘Come on,’ he murmured in Jean’s ear, voice hoarse and unbelievably sexy. ‘Thought you said you were gonna come.’

‘Fuck,’ whispered Jean, fucking his fist weakly. ‘God, you’re so hot.’ 

Jeremy found his lips and kissed him hard, twisting his fist like he knew Jean liked, and worked him until his orgasm wracked his body with tremors, whiting out his vision and flashing hot and cold all over his skin.

They were soaked with sweat and sticky with come, and it felt fucking amazing. Jeremy’s lips were pressing sweetly against his cheeks, the corner of his lips, his temple; his little after-sex ritual melting Jean’s heart once again. He curled up against Jeremy and let himself be kissed, feeling warm and sated and really fucking good. 

Jeremy snagged some tissues from a box on the coffee table and cleaned them up a bit before lobbing it in the trash.

‘Nice shot.’

‘Yeah I’m kinda accurate, I don’t know if you’ve seen me play Exy?’

Jean pinched him gently and buried his face in Jeremy’s neck as Jeremy laughed. He tugged a blanket down from the back of the couch and draped it over them before snuggling down, letting Jean wrap his arms and legs around him and pull him close so his back was pressed against Jean’s chest. He immediately wriggled around so they were nose to nose and smiled.

‘Hi,’ he said.

Jean smiled back. ‘Bonsoir,’ he replied, and Jeremy’s eyes lit up.

‘You’re lovely,’ he mumbled happily, their lips brushing together.

That’s my line, thought Jean.

They were really too big for the couch, but that only meant Jean got to pull Jeremy as close as humanly possible to him. They ended up crawling back into the kitchen to get the real dessert (ice cream) and Jean got to lick it off Jeremy’s lips. They curled up on the couch with more clothing and less jizz, and Jeremy didn’t think Netflix and chill was a thing people actually did, but they did in fact watch Netflix and make out a little bit. He didn’t know if the sex was supposed to come before or after but he was fairly intent on getting into Jeremy’s ass tonight so he didn’t think it mattered. 

 Buttercup joined them after a while, whining so pitifully that Jeremy allowed her to climb up and lie on their feet. It was a bit of a boner killer but somehow Jean didn’t mind. He kept thinking stupid things like “domestic” and “boyfriends” and wondering why he wasn’t freaking out. He’d never had a relationship before, never even tried. What was the point when he was forced to orbit Riko like a fucking planet?

None of those reasons were easy to come by when Jeremy was in his arms and Jean was finding out all kinds of things about him, like how he’d grown up in Oklahoma but went to school in California with his three sisters, how he’d fallen off his bike once and broken his arm and couldn’t hold a racquet properly for nearly a year, that he drank more cherry Coke than Coach Rhemann would let him get away with, and that he was allergic to bananas. Conversation flowed so naturally between them that Jean found himself reciprocating. Only people like Thea and Kevin knew that Jean washed his car every week, even in winter (“ _Especially_ in winter - the mud, Jeremy!”). He’d never bothered to tell anyone that he loved old noir films and Kanye West. Did Jeremy really need to know that Jean was scared of swans because one had bitten his hand when he was four? Probably not, but that didn’t stop him laughing and kissing him sympathetically. Jean didn’t think he’d ever talked this much in one sitting but Jeremy was eating it up - he was actually asking more questions. 

And then they took Buttercup for a short walk around the block, and they held hands and shivered slightly in the chill night air and Jean felt absurdly comfortable considering all he was doing was waiting for a dog to piss. It occurred to him that he’d never held someone else’s hand, not like this anyway. Sure he’d led people from the club to the taxi, but this was different. He was cold, and Jeremy took his hand and tucked it into the pocket of his sweater, holding it there and rubbing his thumb across his skin. His movements were casual and relaxed, and he knew if he leaned in Jeremy wouldn’t think twice about kissing him right here on the street, regardless of who might see. 

Something about that made Jean’s heart hurt. 

Back inside, Jeremy put Buttercup to bed in her little side room. This was done with a lot of sweet talking and cajoling, Jean noticed. He thought that Buttercup would go to bed easier if the alternative of staying with Jeremy and his kind words and gentle touch didn’t sound so much better. 

Part of Jean wondered if Jeremy was done for the night, if they were just going to sleep so they were ready for practise in the morning. The Trojans surely started as early as the Ravens did, and Jeremy did have a bit of a reputation for being the patron saint of Exy, or however Thea had put it. Jean resigned himself to thinking non sexy thoughts as he followed Jeremy upstairs. 

Jeremy, however, had a very different idea of how to end the evening. 

As soon as the door was shut Jeremy was pushing him against it, hands hot and heavy on his shoulders. Jean opened his mouth eagerly for him and slid his hands up the back of Jeremy’s shirt, scraping his fingers down his skin to make him shiver like he knew he would now. Jeremy’s skin was unbelievably sensitive - he bruised like a peach - and Jean loved feeling him tremble with desire at his touch.

Jeremy’s mouth was hot on his, kissing him hard, and he kept him pressed to the door with his body as his hands went south with purpose. 

‘When did you wake up?’ Jean teased when Jeremy pulled away to go for his throat. 

‘You up for it?’ Jeremy asked, breathing hard. He looked up until their eyes were level, and Jean felt his heart speed up. Jeremy’s pupils were blown and he looked utterly debauched from just five minutes of intense making out. Patron saint? This Jeremy looked like he wanted to bend Jean over the nearest surface and fuck him raw.

Jean could only nod, swallowing hard as he did so. Jeremy went back in for more, muffling a noise of desire against Jean’s mouth. He rolled his hips up against Jean so he could feel how hard he already was and Jean moaned against him, finally catching up with the situation. It was slightly strange to him that their whole little domestic scene downstairs had gotten Jeremy’s blood up, but people were strange - he knew for a fact that Kevin regularly got a boner from watching Thea paint her toenails and why oh why was he thinking about Kevin Day’s penis when Jeremy was dragging him back towards the bed by his belt loops? 

‘I don’t know what turned you on and when but I’m not complaining,’ he murmured, pleased, watching Jeremy unzip him and unbutton his shirt at lightning speed. 

‘It’s you,’ Jeremy said, pausing to kiss him breathless. ‘Fuck, I don’t know. I’m just so fucking attracted to you.’

‘Ok,’ Jean said, and let Jeremy push him backwards on to the bed. 

He was on him in an instant, pulling at their clothes until everything was gone and it was just skin on skin and quick breaths and hot, biting lips. Jeremy’s hands found Jean’s hair again, tugging his head back so he could mouth at his neck, but immediately started moving again, sliding one hand down to wrap around Jean’s shaft. Jean didn’t mind admitting he was basking in the attention; he stretched out and tilted his head back, letting Jeremy mark him up. 

Then Jeremy’s fingers started to slip lower, cradling his balls for a moment before sliding down to graze his hole. Jean stiffened briefly, more because he hadn’t been expecting it than anything else, but Jeremy withdrew his hand immediately. 

‘Sorry,’ he breathed against his mouth, but Jean caught his wrist before he could get too far. 

‘I didn’t say stop,’ he murmured, biting his lip gently before drawing back to look him in the eye. Without breaking eye contact, Jeremy drew his finger across Jean’s hole again and this time Jean let his body react. He shivered all the way down to his toes and arched into Jeremy’s touch, mouth opening slightly on the tail end of a noise of pleasure. Jeremy exhaled shakily and ducked in to kiss him.

‘God, I wanna fuck you,’ he said, voice barely above a growl, and Jean actually got harder just from hearing him so wrecked. 

‘Mmm,’ he managed, curling a hand around Jeremy’s neck and tugging him down. He bit gently down on his earlobe and gave it a little pull, just because it was so tempting. ‘I guess you did cook …’ 

Jeremy’s free hand was rummaging around in the blankets beside Jean’s head, and then he heard the pop of a cap.

‘You keep your lube under your pillow?’

Jeremy pushed the tip of his finger inside Jean, making his whole body jump in response, and murmured ‘Had a feeling I’d need it tonight,’ into his ear, before sliding his finger in up to the knuckle. 

The burn felt good, but Jeremy’s lips on his skin felt even better. He was everywhere, kissing him like he was running out of time and didn’t know where to start. His finger slid slowly in and out of Jean, crooked at just the right angle to make Jean sweat. 

‘I’ve never done this before, you know,’ he commented casually, like he didn’t have a finger buried in Jean’s ass. His mouth was working its way along his jawline; the press of his lips was unbearably hot. 

‘Yeah?’ he forced out, one hand clutching Jeremy’s hip and the other clenched embarrassingly tight in the sheets. ‘Never?’

‘Nope. Just to myself.’

‘Oh god,’ Jean groaned; Jeremy had added a second finger so quickly, and his body was struggling to take it. Fuck, it felt good though. All the right kinds of pain. Jeremy fucked him open with his hand until Jean was begging for it like he’d never heard himself before. 

‘God - please - fuck, Jeremy,’ he panted. He bit down on his knuckle and squeezed his eyes shut until Jeremy kissed him gently, stroking his cock to loosen him up again. 

‘God you’re beautiful,’ he murmured. His fingertips were wet as he put a hand on his neck, feeling Jean’s rabbiting pulse. ‘I can’t get enough of you.’

‘Fuck me.’ The words fell from his lips, unbidden. ‘Jeremy, fuck. Come on, please.’

Jeremy’s whole body shivered at his words. ‘Ask me again.’ 

Jean’s head spun. Jeremy had him so turned on he could hardly think.

Jean bit his earlobe and whispered ‘Fuck me.’ Their cocks brushed in an agonising slide and they moaned against each other, hands clutching. 

Wordless, Jeremy drew back. He popped the cap on the lube again and Jean used the moment to roll on to his belly. 

‘Eye contact freak you out?’

‘Nope,’ Jean said into his arm as he felt Jeremy’s hands on his ass. ‘I like it like this.’

Jeremy made a desperate little noise and Jean’s grin was only cut off when he felt the head of Jeremy’s cock press against his hole. There was always that moment of mild panic for him - _it_ _won_ ’ _t_ _fit_ , _it can’t_ -  but then Jeremy leaned over him, his long body warm and hard and pinning him down. One hand stayed on Jean’s ass, but the other rubbed along his ribs and chest and came to rest on the back of his neck. Jean wondered distantly how long before it was in his hair, but then Jeremy was pushing in and there was no room for thinking. 

Jean pressed his forehead against his arm and tried not to moan too loudly. The burn was incredible, the drag of Jeremy’s dick pushing into him almost unbearable. He resisted the urge to jack off, clenching the blankets between his fingers and trying to breathe through it. Sweeter than that was the gentle press of Jeremy’s lips to his shoulder and neck. Every touch was a caress designed to melt him like chocolate, and by the time Jeremy started to pick up speed Jean could feel his legs about to give. 

But Jean was an athlete and he was damn good at sex, and just because Jeremy was fucking with his emotions didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna give it right back to him. So he let himself moan, let Jeremy’s name fall from his lips like he knew Jeremy liked. He pushed back against him, meeting Jeremy’s thrusts with his hips, loving the sounds Jeremy made as he fucked him. His body was hard against him, and the hands that held him down were strong. Fingers carded through his hair and Jean shivered under his touch. 

Then Jeremy hit his prostate and Jean started to entirely unwind. Already on his elbows, he now dropped down so his chest was pressed against the bed, one hand sliding underneath to touch himself. Jeremy lowered himself over him, driving in deeper and wrapping one arm around Jean’s hips so he could jerk him off instead. The other hand stayed firmly in Jean’s hair, keeping his head down. Jean had no problem surrendering this control because it was Jeremy. Jeremy, who would never take that control for granted. Who would never take more than Jean wanted to give. Who - fuck.

‘Jeremy,’ he moaned, voice muffled by his arm. ‘God - fuck, Jeremy.’

‘Yeah,’ Jeremy panted in his ear. ‘You wanna come? God you’re so tight - you feel amazing - fuck.’ He dropped his hand from Jeremy’s hair to brace himself on the bed, keeping his body pressed against Jean’s. ‘Come on, come for me.’ His words sent sparks shooting off all over Jean’s skin, the heat pooling hot and fast in his abdomen. Jeremy’s fingers were fast and sure on his dick, working him as expertly as he had earlier, but it was the feel of his dick pounding into Jean’s body that pushed him over the edge. 

Jeremy fucked him slowly through it, hand doing that maddening twisting motion until Jean was too sensitive to touch. Then he lowered him gently down and turned him on to his side, getting an arm around him and fucking so slowly into him that Jean, boneless by now, was almost able to get back into it. His head was spinning and he was still seeing stars when Jeremy buried his face in Jean’s neck and shot his load deep inside him, shaking against his back, fingers bruising on his hip. 

Would it be like this all the time? Jean wondered, dazed, feeling Jeremy’s ragged breath against his neck, his limbs trembling around him. Would it be even better?

Jeremy pulled out slowly, kissing the back of his neck to ease the unpleasantness. The wet slide was mildly unpleasant but there was something hot about feeling the lube and come trickling out of him, though he would never have admitted that. He felt good about Jeremy coming inside him, losing himself in Jean’s body. He rolled over to face Jeremy, who was half out of the bed in search of more tissues or whatever but caught himself on the edge of Jean’s smile. It was probably a foolish looking thing, dazed and fucked out, but Jeremy seemed to like it.

Both aware of their early start times, they set alarms and closed the curtains. Jeremy’s sparsely decorated room was as calming as Jean remembered, and he knew he’d get as good a night’s sleep here as he ever could at home. 

‘Did you bring you gear?’ Jeremy asked, coming back from the bathroom. There was something slightly off about his voice. 

‘In my car,’ Jean replied, frowning at him from the bed. ‘Do you have something in your mouth.’

‘… No.’

He got into bed beside Jean and turned his back. Jean felt his mouth quirk up.

‘You wanna go for a run after practise tomorrow?’

Jeremy paused. ‘I do,’ he said carefully.

Jean thought quickly. ‘Who has the video of our game the other night? Is it Renee?’

A brief pause. ’No.’

‘Who has it, Jeremy?’

‘… Allishun.’

Jean tugged Jeremy over until he was lying on his back, hands covering his face. ‘Jeremy Knox, are you wearing a retainer?’

‘Go away,’ mumbled Jeremy, mortified. 

Jean couldn’t do anything but laugh, body shaking gently as he wrapped his arms around Jeremy, pulling his body towards him. Jeremy’s body was stiff with shame. 

‘My jaw hurts too much,’ Jeremy protested quietly, hiding behind his fingers. ‘I forgot last night and the night before - please don’t look at me.’ 

Jean couldn’t stop himself from kissing Jeremy, hugging him close and pressing his lips to his cheeks, his neck, to the backs of his hands still covering his face. ‘Baby,’ he murmured, trailing kisses down his arms and over his shoulders. He said a few other quiet things in French that, despite Jeremy’s clear embarrassment, he himself was too embarrassed to say in English. They wouldn’t sound as good, he reasoned. 

Jeremy was laughing softly, wriggling around and trying to get his back to Jean again. But Jean wasn’t having any of that. He kept his arms locked around Jeremy until he was facing him, then tugged his hands away. He held them close to his chest, smiling as Jeremy scrunched up his nose unhappily.

There were dozens of things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. Not in English, not even in French.

‘I like you,’ he said eventually. Hopeless, inadequate. 

Jeremy smiled - with his mouth closed - and kind of nodded, eyes twinkling. 

‘You won’t even speak?’

Jeremy shook his head. Jean rolled his eyes, but pressed a very chaste kiss to Jeremy’s closed lips. 

‘If you must,’ he agreed, feeling exhaustion creep over him. He didn’t want to lie awake long enough to feel the scrapes on his knuckles stinging, or the ache of the bruises on his face, or acknowledge his anxiety at seeing Riko tomorrow. All he was interested in was how Jeremy was starting to fall asleep in his arms, stubbornly silent, with Jean still holding his hands. 

 

Jean missed Jeremy taking out his retainer in the morning. Maybe next time, he thought, watching Jeremy come back into the bedroom, stretching his arms above his head and giving him a tantalising glimpse of toned stomach.

Jeremy got up a little earlier than Jean normally did so he could take Buttercup for a run. This was entirely unsurprising Jeremy behaviour and Jean decided to tag along rather than be left in bed with his thoughts. Buttercup loped along happily beside them, with occasional breaks for sniffing. Jeremy ran her off the lead so they didn’t have to stop but always called to her if she lagged too far behind, mindful of cars on the road even though it was barely dawn. They were sleepy and didn’t talk much, but the early morning air and Jeremy’s quiet presence beside him was far more invigorating than Jean’s usual method of waking up (half-drowning in the shower). 

They parted ways later in the driveway, Jeremy kissing him senseless against his car until they were both officially late for practise. 

‘Teething problems,’ Jeremy shrugged, glancing at the time on his phone and grinning. ‘We can fix it later.’

Jean was aware that he was grinning very stupidly back at him. Since when did he grin more than once a week? ‘I’m gonna get kicked off the team.’

‘You won’t though,’ Jeremy promised, kissing him again. Jean felt it all the way down to his toes. 

Practise dragged. Jean was hyper aware of the discord amongst his teammates, heightened by the stress and suspicion caused by the drug test and encouraged always by Riko’s presence. More than ever, Jean saw how Riko was ruining them; his presence was a dark shadow over his teammates, who were constantly on the lookout for him. He prevented friendships from developing and fostered hostility and animosity as players fought viciously for their spot on the team, suffering Riko’s wrath when they underperformed and ignored when they should have been praised. The coaches were practical, efficient, and, when it came to providing any kind of emotional support for the team useless. Tetsuji rarely spoke to any of them; he watched from the inner court and spoke to his coaches through an earpiece.

He and Thea went to lunch together, and when Jean checked his phone he found a message from Jeremy inviting him out to a club that night. It felt like a group thing, which meant Foxes and other Trojans. Just seeing Jeremy’s name on his phone was enough to get Jean smiling for starters, so he didn’t really care who else was there. 

‘Coming out tonight?’ he asked Thea, setting his phone aside and going back to his lunch.

Thea eyed him over the rim of her protein shake. ‘Wasn’t planning on it,’ she said. ‘You’re going with Jeremy?’

Jean nodded, trying to inhale as many calories as possible to get him through the rest of practise. He was partnered with Riko for their next set of drills; his legs already ached from the impending bruises. 

Thea hesitated, and if Jean had been concentrating on anything but eating and remembering Jeremy’s smile, he would have noticed. 

‘So you’re dating him now?’

Jean swallowed with difficulty. ‘Yes?’ he said questioningly, glancing up at her. ‘Problem?’

Thea watched him, lips pursed. ‘Don’t flaunt it,’ she said finally. ‘Not when he’s like this.’

Jean scoffed. ‘Like how you flaunt Kevin?’

Thea smacked his head. ‘That’s different,’ she hissed. ‘Kevin’s not a Raven anymore.’

‘You are,’ Jean retorted, jerking his head back. ‘And Jeremy’s not either.’

‘Why would Riko care what I do?’ Thea snapped. ‘I’m the best backliner in the game and I’m twice his size. I’m not afraid of Riko Moriyama. But I toe the line and hold my tongue because Riko cares about precisely two people; Kevin, and you. And I say “cares” because there’s no normal word for how he treats the two of you. In some bizarre way you both matter to him, in the most basic sense of that word.’

This wasn’t news, and Jean didn’t like hearing it.

‘You think Riko won’t let me have him,’ Jean said slowly, knowing it was true. Once Riko found out who Jean was seeing, he’d become way too interested in Jeremy. Kevin had gotten out, and Riko didn’t care about Thea like he cared about the two of them. 

Thea rested her chin on her hands and watched Jean with something too close to concern in her eyes. Jean looked away, scowling. 

‘Maybe not,’ he said, unsure of who he was trying to convince. ‘I’m not that interesting, Thea. If I just do what he says, he’ll leave me alone.’

Thea just looked at him.

‘When has he ever left you alone?’ she asked quietly. 

Jean considered this, then got up and left the cafe. Thea followed him to the car, sipping the rest of her protein shake, and wisely said nothing as they drove back to Evermore.

 

The location of that night’s party changed locations several times during the course of the day. Jean ate dinner alone with his cat and idly watched his phone blow up with messages from a group chat that he was added to but not participating in. Jean would have preferred a more neutral venue, but he wasn’t too bothered when they eventually settled on Southpaw, the club Matt Boyd owned. It wasn’t strictly Fox territory, being a popular haunt for B-list celebrities and athletes, but he was fairly sure they wouldn’t run into many Ravens there. Jean felt like he should care more about this. A weird part of his brain thought about messaging Jessica or Sam, two backliners he didn’t hate. It would do them good to socialise outside of practise. But then again, maybe they all socialised without him and he just didn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t entirely comfortable to hang out with Riko’s lap dog.

The broken photo frame was still lying on the table in the living room. Annoyed, Jean swept the pieces into the bin and tucked the photo under a mug on the windowsill in the kitchen.

He was feeling restless, even after a wearying practise, but it was too early to go out yet. His fingers twitched but he didn’t want to smoke. His eyes fell on his violin case.

Taking it out, Jean ran his hands over the smooth wood. Realistically it was too small for him. It wasn’t a child’s violin but it had belonged to his mother, who had been a small woman. 

It felt comfortable, tucked under his chin. His fingertips were too soft; he was out of practise. The rasp of the strings woke Roux up as he coaxed it into tune. She stalked from the room in an instant huff, leaving the piano stool free.

It was hideously out of tune, to be sure. Jean tapped a few keys and winced. No point even sitting down, he thought firmly. 

Twenty minutes later he was elbow deep in the back of the piano, tightening strings based on pure guesswork. Really he should get someone in to do this, he thought, wrestling with the inner workings of this old as fuck upright. But he was restless and he didn’t want to make this a thing, and besides he couldn’t possibly make it sound any worse than it already did. He took a break to chug half a litre of water and then dived back in. After a lot of cursing in French - what a delight it was to be vicious in his own tongue - he was able to press a few keys and actually tell what notes they were supposed to be.

Now that it came down to it, Jean wasn’t sure he wanted to play at all. He couldn’t even remember any songs - could he still read sheet music? 

He was stalling. Without sitting down, he played the C scale, then an arpeggio. As the last note sounded he closed his eyes. The note hovered in the air momentarily before fading away, and Jean wondered how long he could keep this clean and pure and safe from Riko’s touch. 

He played another scale, and then found his right hand slipping into the melody of a half-forgotten piece. Had he learned it before, or only heard it? His fingers tripped clumsily over the keys, bumping into sharps and flats and running out of space when he forgot to move his hand, but Jean had always had a good ear for music, and his left hand figured out chords that worked and helped the melody along. 

He had no idea what song it was. When his memory ran out of notes he made them up, possibly morphing the song into another forgotten remnant of his childhood. The keys were still slightly off, the notes not as pure as they could be, and the pedals were so stiff he didn’t even bother using them, but the music flowed through his hands and swirled around him like it hadn’t done in years, and he didn’t stop playing until it felt like he was finished. 

He let his hands fall into his lap. The room had gone dark around him; he could barely see the keys anymore. His shoulders heaved and he shuddered under the weight of suppressed emotion. Or maybe for once he wasn’t suppressing it; it had crept up on him while he played. Not an ideal way to pregame a big night. 

A soft knock at his front door drew Jean’s attention back to the night in question. He didn’t even know what time it was. He threw a look at the piano as he stood up and tried to feel irritated instead of sad. 

Unsurprisingly, it was Jeremy at the door. Jean tried to remember if they’d had plans to meet before going out; maybe he’d missed something in the group chat? 

He opened his mouth to ask, then closed it again when he saw the look on Jeremy’s face. 

‘I’ve been out here a while,’ he said.

Jean’s expression tightened. ‘Sorry. I didn’t hear - ‘

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Jeremy said, shaking his head, expression soft. ‘Can I come in?’

Jean stepped back wordlessly to let him inside. The house was in darkness; Jean hurriedly flicked on some lights as Jeremy took off his coat and hung it beside Jean’s. 

When he turned back, Jeremy’s face was drawn with quiet concern.

‘Don’t give me that look,’ said Jean tiredly. ‘I’m fine.’

Jeremy shrugged. ‘I’m not here to harass you, Jean,’ he said, hands in his pockets. 

Jean didn’t say _Then_ _why_ _are_ _you_ _here_ , because it would have sounded unbearably rude and as though Jean didn’t want him here, which wasn’t true, but it wasn’t untrue at this particular moment either.

‘You weren’t answering your phone,’ Jeremy explained. ‘And before you go thinking I’m clingy and need a check-in call fives times a day I just want to point out that you’ve gotten into two fights in as many days, so I’m allowed to be a bit worried, ok?’

Fuck. Now Jean saw the tension in Jeremy’s shoulders, the checked emotion in his voice, the half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Jeremy wasn’t his goddamn dog; he was intelligent and perceptive and Jean owed him better than this. 

‘Oh,’ he said, defence crumbling. ‘Jeremy.’

Jeremy’s eyes flicked away nervously and suddenly Jean couldn’t stand the distance between them, so he got rid of it. He wrapped his arms tightly around him and his heart fluttered in relief when Jeremy immediately responded, tucking his face into Jean’s neck and sighing a little. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Jean murmured, closing his eyes. ‘I’m not very good at this.’

Jeremy rubbed his back slowly in the way Jean had started to love. ‘It’s ok,’ he said, and actually sounded like he meant it. ‘Neither am I.’

How could he ever have been so foolish as to think that Riko wouldn’t ruin this for him too, thought Jean.

There was no point in talking about it, and Jean quietly adored Jeremy when he pulled back and said ‘That was some sweet noise you were making though.’

He snorted. ‘“Noise”’, he teased, keeping his arms around Jeremy and brushing their noses together. ‘It’s called music.’

‘Whatever,’ Jeremy said. ‘I didn’t realise music had that many bum notes?’

‘It’s called art. I wouldn’t expect you to recognise it.’

‘The dogs on the street recognised it. Did you hear them howling?’

Jean tapped Jeremy’s temple. ‘You took a knock to the head today, didn’t you?’

Jeremy nodded tragically. ‘Kiss it better?’

Jean felt Jeremy smile as their lips brushed. Jeremy parted his mouth ever so slightly, and the taste of him was irresistible. His lips came away wet and he kissed him again, hungrier this time. It was kind of like remembering a favourite song, finding the right rhythm and feeling it ease his soul and settle his heart. Jeremy’s arms wrapped around his waist and linked behind his back as he leaned sweetly into the kiss, making the tiny little noises that were distant cousins of the ones he made in bed. Jeremy was so openly affectionate that sometimes Jean felt like he wasn’t doing enough, couldn’t possibly be reciprocating enough to deserve this response. But then Jeremy smiled at him and kissed him back, and Jean stopped worrying about being the right amount of whatever. 

Jeremy cupped Jean’s neck, pressing gently on the marks he’d left there the night before. Jean had been admiring them earlier.

‘Those are the only bruises I want to see on you,’ he murmured, eyes sad despite the lifting corners of his mouth. Jean covered Jeremy’s hand with his own.

They ended up being late to the event, but Jean believed in being fashionably late to everything so he wasn’t bothered. Jeremy twitched in the taxi beside him, answering multiple texts and calls. 

‘Are you one of those people?’ he asked Jean, as the taxi slowed to a crawl yet again in downtown traffic. ‘Late to your own funeral?’

Jean arched an eyebrow. ‘No, that would be impolite,’ he said. ‘But I would expect everyone else to be late.’

Something about this tickled Jeremy, and he leaned across to kiss Jean as drivers leaned on horns around them.

Jean was uncommonly relaxed. Here was probably the least likely place Riko would think to look for him, or at least a place he’d be very reluctant to go. Southpaw was crawling with people associated with the Foxes tonight, and the Trojans would be strongly represented too, according to Jeremy. Safe, for now. 

He’s forgotten that his relationship with Jeremy had been more or less a secret, at least on his part, but it made sense that Jeremy would have told his friends. He hadn’t thought Kevin would tell the Foxes - simply because Kevin didn’t understand friendly, non-Exy conversation - but apparently word had gotten around and they attracted a lot of interested looks when they arrived. Jeremy actually seemed kind of smug; he slipped his hand into Jean’s once they were out of sight of the ever-present paparazzi, and Jean felt a little thrilled, despite the eyes on them. 

Southpaw was laid out more like an arena than a club. There were three levels, mostly open plan with balconies, overlooking the main dance floor which was in place of the arena floor. Balconies ran around the edges leading off each floor, providing views of nearly the entire club. Televisions showing Exy games and sports shows decorated each floor, with more casual lounge areas for the players who just couldn’t switch off. People said the club looked like a boxing ring, especially given its name. Jean couldn’t see anything but an Exy court. 

‘Come on, I think they’ve got champagne on tap,’ Jeremy said, pulling him towards a glittering bar. 

‘Are we celebrating?’ Jean asked, bumping their shoulders. Jeremy grinned at him.

‘I’m always celebrating,’ he said, but he squeezed Jean’s hand. 

The bar did have champagne on tap, and it was very good, although Jean didn’t have much of a taste for it ever since he’d gotten extremely drunk after one of their championship games and Riko had emptied a bottle of Dom over him. Then he’d hit him with the bottle for good measure. 

Southpaw was pleasantly rowdy. Jean wasn’t sure what the occasion was, but everyone seemed to be out. Matt, the owner, was shaking hands and making friends. Dan was on his arm, steering the over-friendlies away with a steely smile that matched her ferocity on the court. 

‘There’s Kevin,’ Jeremy said, nodding over the rim of his glass. He’d so far managed to say unnoticed, but this was largely due to the fact that he was hiding behind Jean. 

Jean followed Jeremy’s gaze and saw Kevin - typically - going into the lounge area. He couldn’t see Thea, but she wouldn’t be far.

‘Did you know he’d be here?’ Jeremy asked, watching Jean’s face.

Jean shook his head. 

‘You wanna go talk to him?’

He hesitated, then shook his head again. Why bother, when every glance between them was haunted? Jean knew what Kevin saw when he looked at the bruises on Jean’s face. 

His phone was ringing. One look at the caller ID sent a river of ice down his spine as the memory of where he was supposed to be suddenly returned to him with cold clarity. Jean knew he had one chance to answer this call before he crossed an unforgivable line. 

He stared at the phone, watching it ring. Jeremy was distracted; someone was speaking to him. Jean watched the phone ring out, and then he put it back in his pocket.

When Jeremy reached for his hand again, Jean moved. 

‘What?’

‘Hang on,’ Jean said, words getting tangled on the way to his mouth like they did sometimes. This would be so much simpler in French. He caught himself on Jeremy’s troubled expression.

‘What?’ Jeremy asked again, eyes searching. He didn’t try to reach for Jean’s hand again, but - fuck. Jean knew he’d hurt his feelings all the same. 

Jean jerked his head, and Jeremy followed him to the nearest men’s room. They locked themselves in a stall, and then Jean turned to face him.

Jeremy was close; he wore the hint of a smile and his pupils were blown.

‘Hey.’

Jean bit his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he said, and pulled him in. 

Everything between them was sparks and electricity. Jean couldn’t fathom how he was supposed to keep his hands off him - fuck, he wasn’t even drunk yet, and the terrible knowledge of what he’d just done kept him cold inside. But the chemistry between them was unbelievable; he wanted to fuck him only a little more than he wanted to rub his shoulders and feed him cake and teach him French. This should have been sickening to him. Why the fuck was he smiling against his mouth?

Jeremy’s hands were like magic, running over Jean’s skin like little flames. He licked into his mouth, the heat between them rising, and Jean let him push him back against the door and press soft kisses to the tender skin on his neck. 

‘Wanna tell me what that was about?’ murmured Jeremy, lips unbearably soft, and fuck he was so sneaky. 

‘I just … don’t want anyone thinking it’s more than just sex. Yet.’ He tried to keep his voice down but couldn’t hide the strain. 

‘Mmm. Why’s that?’ Jeremy’s hands were scraping softly at the skin over Jean’s waistline, threatening to slip beneath his jeans. 

‘I don’t want him finding out.’

‘Who now?’

Jean bit his lip, even as Jeremy’s fingers became tangled in the dark hair around his dick. 

‘Riko.’

Jeremy paused, and Jean wondered how many more times he could get away with bringing him up before Jeremy finally had enough. It was worse than bringing up an ex, because at least if Riko was an ex-boyfriend he couldn’t stop Jean from doing whatever he wanted with Jeremy. 

Jean supposed it didn’t matter what Riko was to him; it only mattered what Jean was to Riko, which was nothing and everything at the same time.

Jeremy drew back, like Jean knew he would, like he really should, and looked him in the eye. 

‘I’m really starting to dislike that name,’ Jeremy murmured. His expression was still soft with affection and arousal, but Jean could hear unhappiness in his voice. ‘Seems like he’s coming between us every other minute.’

He didn’t know the half of it. But Jean was starting to get tired of how unfair this was to Jeremy. 

‘I’m concerned …’ he began, then trailed off, not knowing how to go on. Concerned was putting it mildly.

‘About what?’ Jeremy said, leaning his body against Jean’s. Their fingers interlocked and Jeremy nosed at his cheek. 

Jean swallowed. ‘About you.’

Jeremy turned his face slightly, lips brushing his skin. ‘Me? I’m fine.’

Sure, he thought he was. Felt it too, all warm and pressed up against Jean. He smiled a little. 

‘I know you are now,’ he said, squeezing Jeremy’s hands. ‘But he … he doesn’t like my attention being divided. He thinks I’m distracted.’

‘And that’s my fault?’ Jeremy sounded pleased at the idea. 

‘It’s my fault, idiot’ Jean murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. ‘But he’ll blame you.’

Jeremy paused, then pulled back. Jean saw the look in his eyes and realised something he’d said had finally registered. 

‘You’re worried about his reaction?’

Jean hesitated. ‘I’m worried about you,’ he admitted quietly. 

The club music was almost too loud for their soft tones. They had to lean very close. 

‘We can’t be seen together,’ he said, feeling wretched. ‘Not like this, not in public.’

Jean felt Jeremy’s mouth turn down where it was pressed against his cheek.

‘For how long?’

Jean didn’t know. He pulled back so he could look at Jeremy’s face; it was troubled. 

He didn’t have an answer, so he kissed him and hoped that was enough. It couldn’t be, of course. Why should Jeremy accept something so third rate? A relationship wholly undeserving of his time, with someone who could never give him anything near what he needed and deserved. 

Jean wasn’t sure how much of that was still on his face when Jeremy drew back to look at him. 

‘We should talk about this,’ Jeremy said. His expression was tight.

Their night was over already. 

‘We don’t have to,’ Jean began, but Jeremy shook his head. He pulled Jean’s hands up to his chest, holding them tight in his own. 

‘Do you want this?’ he asked, a strange note of curiosity in his voice that was at odds with the conversation. He wasn’t looking at Jean, but at the hands. ‘Do you want to be together?’

The question was as unexpected as it was painful, and it surprised Jean by how quickly the answer leapt to his mind. 

‘Yes,’ he said. He’d never been so sure of anything before - when had that happened? 

Jeremy nodded, still looking at their hands. He swallowed visibly, then looked up. His eyes opened a chasm in Jean’s chest; they were intense, alive with anxiety. 

Yes, they did need to talk. Jean wasn’t sure how this had all come to a head in a bathroom at Southpaw, but the realisation that he wasn’t being careful enough had suddenly collided with the sudden recognition of his true feelings for Jeremy and now here they were, putting it all on the table.

‘Me too,’ Jeremy said. He raised Jean’s hands to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Jean watched him, and felt like his whole world had narrowed down to just him. Just Jeremy. He’d gotten so far under his skin and Jean hadn’t even noticed until it was too late. Far too late.

‘You are very important to me,’ he murmured, freeing his hands and cradling Jeremy’s face. ‘When did that happen?’

Jeremy smiled a little, and yeah, he definitely didn’t understand yet. That was going to be an unpleasant talk. Jean would have to tell him everything, and then wait and see if Jeremy still held any kind of affection for him. And the weight of that missed call hung heavy around his shoulders.

Jeremy raised his arms and wrapped them around Jean’s neck. Jean looped his own around Jeremy’s waist, pulling him close so there was nothing left between them. Eyes closed, heads tilted towards each other, foreheads touching, they stood there together. It should have been impossible to feel anything but stressed and anxious, standing there doing nothing, but somehow Jean managed to feel nothing but peace. 

Time slipped by. They kissed, soft and reassuring, but didn’t speak. It was the least romantic setting possible but Jean was hardly aware of anything but Jeremy in his arms. The smell of him, the warmth of his skin and the press of his lips; Jean was intoxicated, drunk on every sensation. They kissed until their lips were numb and their cheeks sore from stubble burn. Jean tried to savour every second, every single kiss and touch, because the cold fear had taken up residence in his heart and whispered to him that soon Jeremy wouldn’t want to touch him. That hearing about the drugs, combined with the fact that Riko would very likely try to ruin Jeremy’s career at the very least just to get at Jean … 

If Jeremy didn’t walk away from that, Jean hadn’t explained himself properly. That was always a possibility. English was his second language, after all.

The bathroom was getting rowdy outside. Jean hadn’t a clue how long they’d been in there, but he was starting to feel pressed.

‘Wanna go?’ Jeremy asked, reading him like he read every player on an Exy court. The words came out mumbled against Jean’s lips, but he pulled back to blink at him. Fuck, he was a sight. Lips swollen and red from kissing, hair tousled and eyes so dark. But his expression cleared as he met Jean’s eyes.

‘You came out to have fun,’ protested Jean. ‘I’ll go. You stay.’

But Jeremy was shaking his head before he’d finished. ‘No, I want to stay with you.’

‘You don’t have to,’ said Jean, exasperated, and mostly with himself. ‘All of your friends are here. You shouldn’t have to leave just because I - ‘

Jeremy put a finger to his lips, and now there was a spark of annoyance in his eyes. ‘Yeah, my friends are here,’ he said, voice rushed. ‘I see those assholes every day. They’re my friends and I care about them but this is just some random night, and I want to be with you right now more than I’ve ever wanted to be with anyone. I - fuck.’ He closed his mouth abruptly, which suited Jean fine because he wanted to kiss him anyway. 

They left the stall when the bathroom sounded more or less empty. There was some random dude at the sink but he didn’t pay them any heed. 

Standing not five feet away outside the bathroom door was Riko. The door had hardly banged shut behind them before he spotted them and oh, Jean knew that look. His hands were balled into fists and he had murder on his mind. Who was going to come pull him away? That was usually Jean’s job.

He hadn’t been holding Jeremy’s hand, but it hardly mattered. Riko wasn’t an idiot, he could read it all over their faces. 

‘So,’ he said, striding forward to get in Jean’s face. ‘Here you are.’

‘What?’ Jean said tightly. ‘What do you want?’

‘You fucked up,’ Riko said, and he didn’t even sound pleased at the idea of kicking Jean’s ass for it. He glanced at Jeremy. ‘Leave.’

‘No,’ Jeremy said calmly. They both looked at him, and Jean felt his heart swell even as his pulse started to race. Jeremy was staring at Riko without an ounce of fear or concern on his face. He was taller than Riko - most people were - and his shoulders were broader. He could probably take Riko, easy. But Jeremy fought fair, and fair was never Riko’s game. 

‘The fuck - get out of here,’ Riko snapped, trying to muscle him out of the way. Jeremy didn’t move an inch, and it was almost funny to see Riko kind of bounce off him. His malevolence and general status usually sent most people scurrying when he turned that glare on them. Jeremy hadn’t even blinked. 

Unfortunately, it was enough for Riko to figure out the math.

‘This?’ he asked incredulously, looking at Jean. ‘This is who you’re fucking? You’re gonna throw it all away for Jeremy fucking Knox?’

‘Oh you’ve heard of me?’ Jeremy asked mildly. Jean would have laughed if he wasn’t so fucking anxious. 

Riko was shaking his head, anger momentarily derailed by sheer amazement. 

‘You could have any piece of ass you wanted. Did you pick him deliberately to piss me off? Could you have found a more annoyingly high-profile player? Wait yes you could - you could have fucked Kevin Day again, Jesus Christ I’m going kill you - ’

‘Riko,’ said Jean tensely. 

‘Again?’ Jeremy frowned, glancing between the two of them.

Riko cracked a vicious smile that didn’t come close to his eyes. ‘Oops.’

Jean’s eyes flickered to Jeremy, tension knotting his stomach and shoulders. Jeremy looked like he didn’t know what to make of anything Riko had said, but to Jean’s relief he held up his hands and stepped back a little. 

Riko slapped Jean’s face. ‘Hey! Stop fucking looking at him.’ He grabbed Jean by the throat and pushed him back into the wall. Jeremy made a startled move towards them but Jean held up a hand without taking his eyes off Riko. Jeremy couldn’t see the blade pressing against Jean’s gut.

‘Hey,’ Riko said again, madness glinting in his eyes. ‘You missed a drop. Hmm? You didn’t pick up your phone, Moreau. What gives? Balls deep in Captain Wonderful? In a club bathroom too, classy. That’ll look great on the morning news. If they don’t find your fucking body in a dumpster first.’

Riko was distracted; he hadn’t planned on Jeremy being there. Jean figured he’d probably be in that dumpster already if Jeremy wasn’t half a step away from them. 

‘I’m short,’ Riko reminded him, pressing the blade a little closer. 

Some madness made Jean say, ‘No shit.’

The blade dug a little deeper, and Jean felt the hot sting and familiar trickle of blood on his skin. 

‘We have a game in two days, and you sent our dealer rabbiting. You fucking blew it, Jean. You’ve literally fucked up the last use I had for you. You’re not even fun to fuck with anymore, Jesus Christ you’re so boring these days I could be sick. Might not kill you, though. Effort.’ His eyes glinted, and Jeremy saw how high he was, how huge his pupils were. What was he on, where had he gotten it? Questions that should be relevant to Jean, but he couldn’t hear anything except the pounding in his ears. 

‘Might just ruin your boyfriend’s life instead. If we lose on Saturday because I - ’

‘Can’t keep up?’ grunted Jean. Riko’s face froze. ‘It’s not my fault that you’re past it. Sort your fucking life out.’

The blade slid up and under his skin. It forced the breath out of his body, sent a hot spike of pain shooting up his spine and wrapped crushing fingers around his middle. Riko had been doing this to him for a long time, but this one felt a little closer to Jean’s vital organs than he was comfortable with - fuck, it hurt. 

‘I’ll kill you,’ Riko whispered into his ear. ‘I’ll kill him too.’

Then somehow, incredibly, he drew back. The knife disappeared. A few drops of Jean’s blood hit the floor, before he had the sense to cover the wound with his hand. He stared at Riko, legs shaking and threatening to drop him.

‘Fucking try,’ he forced out, trying not to double over. ‘Maybe wait until you’ve come down, you piece of shit.’

Riko pointed a shaky finger at him. ‘You’re dead.’

‘Fuck you,’ Jean retorted. 

Riko disappeared into the rapidly gathering crowd of bodies - most faces eager to see three of the biggest names in Exy in the same space - and Jean quickly turned his back so they wouldn’t see the dark stain spreading around his bloodied fingers. 

He felt a hand on his back. 

‘Renee.’ Jean realised Jeremy wasn’t speaking to him. He felt him move, gesturing. Then the hand was gone, he was moving away and so were the crowds, and Renee’s hand was on his arm, her small body pressed against his side. 

‘Let’s go,’ she said. An even smaller body appeared on his other side. Aaron wrapped an arm around Jean’s slim waist and started walking him away from the bathroom door. 

It wouldn’t be a Fox club if it didn’t have at least three quick getaway doors. Aaron got him into the back of Renee’s car and the two of them took him straight to what could only be Abby Winfield’s house. He should really send that woman a fruit basket, Jean thought in a daze. Blood loss was a bitch. 

Aaron was cursing steadily and Renee was talking into her phone. Jean struggled to stay silent as the car took sharp turns and his body tensed to remain in one place. 

He kept looking to the seat beside him, dazed. Surely Jeremy should be sitting there.

Walking up the path to the front door was a lot harder than previous walking experiences. The bleeding had mostly stopped but Jean couldn’t really tell because his entire hand was coated in it. 

‘You’re nearly there, Jean - oh there’s Abby.’ Renee sounded relieved. ‘Abby - ‘

‘I’m good, I’ve got it,’ muttered Jean, hating the growing attention. The pain was worming its way through his chest and stomach, and it was familiar, he’d had cuts like this before - Riko was more skilled than a surgeon, he knew exactly how deep to cut, the right angle - 

Kevin showed up a little while later and he and Abby had a shouting match about the hospital that Kevin eventually won through ruthless truths that Jean wasn’t sure he wanted everyone to know. The needle stung as it sewed his skin together but Jean barely felt it through the whiskey that Kevin forced down his throat. 

‘Reckless,’ he hissed. He was sporting a cut lip, for some reason. ‘He’s getting worse. God, I can’t believe …’

‘What?’ slurred Jean. ‘That I’m still letting him do this to me? Fuck off, Kevin. We don’t all get to walk away.’

Kevin pressed his lips together and glared; somehow, the weight of his stare was worse than the shouting. 

Jean passed out on Abby’s couch after that; a combination of pain, blood loss, alcohol, and whatever was in the pills Abby handed him. He woke up feeling brutal and acutely aware of his hand pressed between two rough palms. 

He blinked and saw himself reflected in a pair of soft brown eyes. 

‘Hey tough guy,’ Jeremy said quietly, squeezing his hand. He was kneeling beside the couch, looking pale and tired in the early dawn light filtering through the curtains. Jean couldn’t figure out what time it was. He tried to lick his lips and found his mouth bone dry. 

‘Here.’ Jeremy held out something plastic. ‘I told her you’d prefer a sippy cup, but she didn’t have one.’

‘Funny,’ Jean mumbled, accepting the beaker of water. Jeremy stroked the back of his free hand as he drank. 

‘What happened?’ he asked, struggling to sit up. The water was heavy and unpleasant in his stomach, but he forgot about that as the movement stretched his stitches. He froze with a grunt, stomach muscles trembling. 

‘Please don’t,’ said Jeremy sternly, putting a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. ‘I feel like it bears stating that you got stabbed.’ 

‘I know that,’ grumbled Jean. Not like it was the first time. ‘What happened afterwards?’

Jeremy looked unhappy but dutifully told him ‘Matt and I got rid of the spectators and Riko took off. No one’s seen him since.’

‘What did you do?’ _Why_ _weren_ ’ _t_ _you_ _here_ , Jean wanted to ask.

Jeremy swallowed. ‘I, uh.’ He paused, tried again. ‘I tried to go after Riko, actually. I know,’ he said, grimacing at the look on Jean’s face. ‘I wasn’t thinking clearly. Fuck, when I saw your face … and all that blood.’ He shook his head, and Jean saw the same kind of frightened look in his eyes as he had when he’d pulled that overly-friendly guy off of him in the club. ‘And I hit Kevin.’ 

Jean blinked, too surprised to speak. 

‘Listen,’ Jeremy said defensively. ‘You didn’t hear him. He was saying how, like, you let Riko do this, how you encourage him …’ Jeremy shook his head, eyes burning. ‘Never punched a guy before, not in the face. Never thought it’d be Kevin fucking Day.’

And Jean could hear all too clearly exactly what Kevin had been saying, and how it would sound to Jeremy. 

‘He’s not wrong,’ he said quietly, taking Jeremy’s hand again. ‘This was my fault, Jeremy.’ This time he forced himself into a sitting position, because there was no way he was doing this lying down like an invalid. It would be hard enough to defend himself without doing it from a sickbed. 

‘Jean, no one asks for this kind of treatment.’ Jeremy was frowning, and he probably thought he knew what cruelty was, how life could be unfair and unkind and just plain illogical sometimes, but he didn’t know Riko Moriyama. 

‘I know,’ Jean said. ‘But when you live with someone like Riko for long enough, you learn the rules. Whose fault is it then if you break them?’

Jeremy sat on the couch beside him, his body tense. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he said uncertainly. 

Jean pressed a hand to the wound in his stomach. It ached, stung like a bitch, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore. No Exy for him today, he thought, with a miserable sense of twisted relief.

‘I grew up around Riko,’ Jean said carefully. ‘Not with him. Kevin was his brother - or as close to it as Riko cared to allow him. And Riko’s a bit of a sociopath, I don’t know if you’ve noticed?’

Jeremy huffed an unamused laugh, but some of the tension left his shoulders. ‘Kind of, yeah.’

Jean nodded. ‘Yes, well. We were investments, Kevin and I, but Kevin more so. So Riko could - he could push me down a flight of stairs or slip knives under my skin but Kevin was a bit more precious, you know?’

Jeremy looked like he was having trouble processing that. ‘He … what?’

‘We used to joke, Kevin and I,’ Jean said bleakly. ‘He was the brains and I was the brawn, in that Riko tortured Kevin emotionally and me physically. One of us had to break eventually and - to be honest, I don’t even blame Kevin.’ He looked at Jeremy willing him to understand. ‘He was driving Kevin mad, and I mean that literally. Kevin almost couldn’t function; he’d twist himself inside out trying to out-think and out-manoeuvre Riko in the simplest of things. Riko didn’t care who won; he got off on seeing Kevin writhe.’ He paused looking down at where Jeremy was still holding his hand, though limply. ‘In the end, what’s a beating compared to that?’

He didn’t need to inventory those beatings for Jeremy. He didn’t need to list every cut and punch and broken bone. Every slap and kick and violated space. 

Jeremy finally spoke up. His voice sounded quiet, cowed. ‘And you can’t leave …?’

Jean tried not to let his shoulders slump. ‘I have a different contract to most athletes.’

Jeremy stiffened, processing this. Jean thought about how close Tetsuji was to retiring, how his family’s debt might one day be repaid, how he might be free if only he could keep going, stick it out, keep making money. He felt the wound in his side and winced. Not helping.

‘So what happened tonight?’ Jeremy asked, and Jean’s insides went cold. If telling him about his history with Kevin and Riko was embarrassing, this would be downright shameful. He focused on Jeremy’s hand in his, because surely these were their last few moments of closeness. 

‘Riko’s been taking performance enhancing drugs,’ he explained dully. ‘I’ve been getting them for him. I missed tonight’s drop on purpose; the dealer thought I’d been made, got scared, and now he’s nowhere. Riko won’t have his fix for tomorrow night, so we’ll lose the game. So, my fault.’

He felt Jeremy’s hand pull away from his. He had no right to ask him to stay, but he couldn’t stop himself. A feeble, pathetic, ‘Don’t,’ fell from his lips, leaving him feeling small as Jeremy stepped away from him.

‘Fuck,’ he was muttering. ‘Christ.’ He turned and looked at Jean, running a hand through his hair. ‘Who else knows?’

Jean lifted a shoulder. ‘Kevin. Thea. And probably half the team suspects.’

‘Christ,’ Jeremy said again. He paused. ‘The drug test?’

Jean didn’t have the energy to shrug. ‘Probably not a coincidence.’

He could see Jeremy’s sharp mind putting it all together, finding the half-truths and deceptions. 

‘So that’s why he came after you,’ he murmured, rubbing his bottom lip and looking agitated. ‘It was all about the drugs, right? And tonight, because you didn’t show up …’ He looked at Jean, expression tight. ‘Because you were with me. You missed that call because you were - ‘

‘It was on purpose,’ Jean interrupted him immediately. ‘I missed it on purpose.’

‘Yeah, because of me!’

Jean shook his head, anger bubbling inside of him. ‘Would you have preferred I left you and went to meet Riko’s dealer? Keep helping him cheat?’

‘If you’d told me the alternative was you getting stabbed then yes!’ Jeremy snapped. ‘I would have driven you there myself.’

Jean said nothing. He felt hollowed out and cold. He stared down at his hands, lying like dead things in his lap, and wondered why he thought he’d be brave, why he’d be so defiant and not pick up the damn fucking phone. 

‘I didn’t want to do it anymore,’ he said. ‘I wanted to stay with you.’

The silence hung heavy around them. Jean was amazed they hadn’t woken the house yet. Maybe Abby was just being polite.

Hands found his, turning them over to be held tightly. Jeremy crouched down in front of him, tilting his head up so his eyes could search Jean’s face. They were warm, and creased with concern.

Wordless, Jeremy pressed Jean’s knuckles to his mouth. It was such a painful imitation of his earlier, loving gesture in the bathroom that Jean almost felt sickened by the contrast. Surely, this was a farewell.

‘I don’t know how to help you,’ Jeremy whispered, eyes bright with unshed tears. His voice was low and rough. ‘I don’t know if I can.’ 

Jean frowned, confusion and exhaustion slurring his words slightly. ‘What do you mean? I’m helping him cheat, Jeremy, I’m breaking the law. If he’s caught - ’

‘I don’t mean that,’ Jeremy said, impatiently, shaking his head. ‘God, that’s a whole other problem but that’s not what I’m talking about. He - he’s got you thinking that you deserve this - Kevin thinks you asked for this? Jean - Christ - ’ He broke off, biting his lip. ‘I am so fucking sorry.’

He sounded so brutally sincere that Jean almost broke. Deep down, yeah, he knew Riko was the asshole, that he was a victim, that he was abused, him and Kevin both. It was just hard to remember that sometimes because really, what good would it do? Thinking about how unfair it all was didn’t exactly made it easier to cope with it. 

‘Not your fault,’ Jean said hoarsely. ‘Why aren’t you mad?’

Jeremy blinked. ‘Mad?’ he asked. ‘I’m - I’m furious, Jean, I want to find Kevin and punch his lights out properly, I want to run Riko down with my goddamn car, are you serious? I -’

‘No I meant - ‘ Jean interrupted, making an aborted gesture towards himself that he quickly turned into a neck scratch. Humiliating.

Jeremy’s breath caught in his throat. Suddenly he was moving to sit beside Jean, and his hand went up to tug Jean’s away from where it was worrying his neck. 

‘Look at me,’ Jeremy said quietly, but not insistently. Jean met his eyes because even now, he was hard to look away from. 

‘None of this,’ Jeremy said, ‘is your fault. Nothing you have ever done for that man is your fault.’

Jean blinked, and now he did have to look away. He blinked a few more times, quickly. 

‘Jean, are you listening to me?’ Jeremy asked quietly. ‘You are more than what he says you are, and you’re far braver than he could ever be. Jean? Look at me, I’m not going anywhere, I - oh, sweetheart,’ he murmured, putting a hand on his neck, because Jean’s resolve had finally snapped. His heart had begun beating painfully fast when Jeremy had told him he was brave - him, brave, what an abstract fucking concept, he was a lamb for the slaughter - but when Jeremy said those words, words that might not mean a goddamn thing in the long run but right now were the only thing Jean wanted to hear - well, he broke. His eyes fluttered shut against the tears he couldn’t stop, and he turned his head away, chin pressed to his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut as they burned. 

Jeremy’s arms around him felt like home. He knew these arms, he knew how he would feel once he was in them. Safe. Normal. Not entirely worthless.

Jeremy’s hands rubbed his back, and Jean wondered how long before he was freaking out about the cops and the ERC and Riko tracking them down with more knives. Not yet, he hoped. Not tonight. He had no idea what time it was, but he hoped they had a little more of it to spend together before everything went to shit. 

‘I’ll take you home,’ Jeremy murmured, lips against his neck. ‘You need to sleep.’

‘I don’t,’ Jean insisted, pulling back. But, he realised, Jeremy did. Jeremy had training in a few hours and then a game to play tomorrow. Trojans were at home to Ohio State. And Jean would have to report for a physical, fail it, and explain to four coaches, Tetsuji, and his teammates why he was on the bench for their game against the New York Thunders.

Jeremy was pale and had dark circles under his eyes. He’d been up all night. 

‘You drove here?’ Jean asked. 

Jeremy concentrated on running his fingers gently through Jean’s hair, smoothing it back. ‘I took a cab home with Thea and Neil and Andrew,’ he explained quietly. ‘Because Kevin disappeared and I wasn’t letting Thea out of my sight without telling me where you’d gone. I made her call him. Got off on my street, drove over here. Renee let me in. I didn’t know you were friends with Aaron Minyard,’ he added, letting his hand rest on Jean’s neck. ‘He’s…’

‘Prickly,’ Jean supplied, making Jeremy smile. ‘I can’t believe you got into a cab with Thea and Andrew after you’d punched Kevin.’

’I actually hit him on Abby’s porch. Aaron swore he wouldn’t tell.’ 

Jean smiled, then frowned. ‘Wait, so you were out there all that time? Kevin left, like, ages ago.’

Jean shrugged. ‘Wasn’t like I had anywhere else to be,’ he said lightly. His arms still held Jean loosely, leaning back on the couch. He tucked his legs up, and Jean realised he wasn’t wearing shoes. His jacket was hanging up in the dimly lit hallway beside Jean’s and a bright red anorak that must have been Abby’s. 

He’d been here the whole time. 

Jean struggled to get closer to him. The wound in his side stretched painfully but he ignored it. Jeremy accepted him willingly, and they pressed close together on the couch and kissed, legs tangled up together and hands brushing as they struggled to touch, to comfort. Their mouths brushed together, clumsy with exhaustion, and Jean hardly knew what he was saying, and it was in French but he thought it would have sounded the same in English anyway.

Their bodies slid down, Jean trying to get Jeremy flat so he could sleep at least. Their legs rested on the other arm rest but they managed to lie more or less side by side. Jean assumed they’d be asleep before it got too uncomfortable. 

‘Just for a few minutes,’ Jeremy mumbled, eyes slipping shut. Jean’s body relaxed into his touch and the soft couch cushions beneath him but his mind was wired, thoughts ricocheting like Exy balls off a court wall.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t ready for tonight,’ said Jeremy. Jean didn’t move. His arm was thrown over Jeremy’s body, keeping him close. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t know what to do … what to say.’

At this late stage, this was almost more than Jean could take. He tightened his arms around Jeremy, pressing their foreheads together. 

‘I hope that’s just the tiredness talking,’ he said, as fiercely as he could when it felt like a fist was clenching his chest. ‘Because you have done more for me than anyone. Anyone, ever. You’re amazing, you - ’ He broke off when Jeremy raised his head to look him right in the eye. Their heads were sharing the same cushion. They were nose to nose. 

‘I’m not,’ Jeremy said. His voice had gone a little croaky. ‘You - ’

‘I’m a spectator,’ Jean said, hollowly. ‘A bystander. You’re everything.’ He hesitated, unable to look away. ‘You mean … you mean everything to me.’

Jeremy looked back at him, eyes wide and bright. They kissed without even realising they were leaning in. 

‘You make me feel - like I never knew I could,’ breathed Jeremy, in between kisses. ‘You’re all I can think about. God, Jean … I was so scared. I couldn’t think.’

Jean kissed him, nodding, because he understood. He knew that fear now, too, and it dwarfed nearly every moment of terror Riko had ever inflicted on him. 

He’d been given some painkillers and alcohol, and he didn’t want Jeremy to think he was any inch less sincere than he was, so he didn’t say it. He could have, and maybe Jeremy could have too, because he felt the same urgency and intensity in his kisses that he himself felt in his heart. The words would be wasted, tinged with pain and anxiety.

But it hung in the air between them, silent but known, and it brought them some peace as they sheltered in its warmth. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jeremy’s phone alarm woke them up only moments before Abby made her way into the living room. Apparently she ran on the same clock that most Exy pros did, and she checked on Jean’s wound while Jeremy made them all coffee. 

‘Very lucky,’ she murmured again, checking to make sure the stitches hadn’t ripped. Jean knew luck had nothing to do with it. 

She took Jeremy’s hand after he handed out the mugs, and lifted the gauze on his knuckles. Jean raised his eyes.

‘Kevin’s teeth,’ Jeremy explained. He held up his now bared skin, and Jean could see two bloody gouges. ‘He was mid-rant.’ 

Jean glanced down at his bare chest and the gauze-wrapped bandage pressed to his side. ‘We match,’ he said, looking back up at Jeremy, whose face split into a grin. 

Jean’s humour faded as soon as he realised he had some explaining to do. Jeremy thanked and apologised to Abby more than enough for the two of them, then drove Jean to Evermore before heading (late) to the Trojan court. 

Jean hobbled down the dark hallways and found the defence coach in his office. Paul Moore had been a Raven all of his professional career until a car accident left him with a limp he couldn’t shake and a towering temper. He handled defence but he’d been a backliner himself, so he spent most of his time hounding Jean both on and off the court. 

‘Moreau,’ he snapped, by way of greeting. ‘Why aren’t you changed out for - ’ Moore’s sharp blue eyes immediately caught Jean’s pained stance, and he stood up from his desk.

‘Christ, what now,’ he said, striding around to take Jean by the arm. He hauled him upright, making Jean wince and wrap an arm around himself, though he stared defiantly back at Moore. 

‘What the fuck did you do this time?’ Moore snapped, taking in Jean’s condition. He was still wearing the dark shirt from the night before; it hid the bloodstains from afar but did nothing to conceal the truth when you were standing as close as Moore was.

Jean flinched. ‘Does he need a reason?’ he said. 

It was simple, really. It was like Exy. Jean wanted to play, so he did, and he accepted the fact that it would mean getting knocked down and bruised. He threw himself at strikers and protected his teammates and the price was often pain, but he paid it. 

It was all about knowing the rules, and what happened if you broke them.

So why did it irritate him so much now, when he saw the accusing look on his coach’s face? Why did it make him feel so wronged, when before it would only have reminded him to be on his toes? 

‘Have you seen a doctor?’ demanded Moore, tugging up his shirt to have a look, heedless of Jean’s privacy. Concerned for his back line, mindful of Tetsuji’s rage.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Jean said, tugging his shirt back down. ‘Stitched me up, quietly.’

‘Hmm. Good.’ Moore eyed him suspiciously. ‘Well, you’ll have to see Tyler anyway. Get it on the record. And we’ll have to release a statement. We’ll say you were mugged.’

‘What? Come on,’ protested Jean, annoyed.

Moore shrugged, stepping back towards his desk. ‘This is your mess, Moreau. Don’t blame us for how we spin it.’

Jean wrapped a hand around his middle, feeling defensive. ‘Fine,’ he said. 

‘You still need to train,’ Moore said, sitting down and not looking at him.

Jean winced. ‘I know.’

Moore typed a few words at his keyboard then prepared to make a call. He glanced at Jean as he put the phone to his ear. ‘What are you waiting for? A kiss goodbye?’ He smirked, and Jean realized the cat might be out of the bag. He backed out of the room, feeling suddenly exposed. 

A trip to Tyler, their team doctor, yielded another scolding and a week long bench time. Any other team would have benched their player for over a month at least, but Tetsuji had stepped in at last. Jean didn’t know if Riko would hear about this, but Jean certainly would before long.

He joined his teammates on the court and suffered through a truly brutal practise. Word had gotten around; no one was happy with him. A hole in their back line at this stage of their season, especially with Riko’s behaviour so erratic, could spell disaster. Tetsuji was ran them harder than ever as a result, sending his orders down from high to the coaches prowling the outer court, and Jean could hardly catch his breath long enough to meet Thea’s worried eyes. 

And speaking of Riko … 

His absence on the court was tangible. The first half of practise was awkward, hesitant; everyone expected him to show up late, throw a racquet a them and scream that they’d been doing it wrong all their lives. 

When it became apparent that Riko wasn’t going to show up, the team began communicating better. Thea called the shots from defence and covered up for Jean’s rapidly deteriorating performance. By the time Tetsuji finally called a halt, Jean could feel an ominous damp spot under his uniform and pain was knifing through his stomach. His muscles were tight and locked as he staggered off the court, Moore barking in his ear that he’d underperformed. Riko’s absence had lifted the team’s spirits to the point where any anger they felt at Jean was now directed at their coaches, and they left Jean alone as they changed out. 

There was a text from Jeremy waiting for him: _I_ ’ _ll_ _pick_ _you_ _up_ _after_ _practise_.

Jean remembered that he had no car, but Thea didn’t look like she was keen to let him disappear again. As soon as they were out of the changing rooms she pounced.

‘You bleeding?’ she demanded, eyes raking over him. 

Jean shrugged. He’d used the spare gear that he kept in his locker, since his usual stuff was in the trunk of his car, but even completely free of gear and armour he still felt like he was dragging a lead weight around. 

‘I was,’ he said. ‘I think I’m good now though.’

Truthfully he'd thrown up as soon a second he'd gotten into the bathroom and there’d been rather a lot of blood in the shower but he just wanted to let it sort itself out at this point. He wouldn’t be training tomorrow and he knew from experience that a superficial knife wound was nothing 12 straight hours in bed couldn’t solve. More or less.

‘You should let Tyler check you out,’ Thea said, lowering her voice as the other Ravens filtered out around them. They were discussing tactics for tomorrow’s game. They never switched off; Jean could remember when he used to enjoy that kind of immersion. 

‘It’s fine,’ Jean said, distracted. ‘It’s already healing. Trust me, I know what that feels like.’

Thea didn’t like hearing this; she was his friend but she was still a Raven. Anything that suggested their team was less than perfect was unpalatable to her. She pursed her lips and glanced around.

‘So where was he today?’ she asked, folding her arms. 

Jean shrugged. ‘Don’t know. What did Kevin say?’

Thea eyed him. ‘Not much. Your boyfriend nearly knocked his teeth out.’

Jean tried not to look too proud. 

They followed the team out, keeping a distance. Jean was struck again by how much the tension between his teammates bothered him. He remembered the violence that had plagued the Foxes a few years back, how they’d rallied around Neil protectively when he’d been injured. Thea was already avoiding the subject, and his teammates flat out blamed him for their impending defeat. 

‘This is fucked up,’ Thea said flatly. ‘If Riko doesn’t show up - ’

‘He’ll show,’ Jean said. ‘He’s not that far gone.’ He didn’t know that, though.

‘Between the two of you, we’re fucked.’

‘Hey, we’re not the only two on the team. If any of you are worth your paycheques - ‘

‘Man, shut the hell up, Jean,’ snapped one of the Ravens ahead of them, hearing their raised tones. It was Edwards; he glared back over his shoulder at them. ‘Sort your shit out.’

Jean glared back at him but didn’t have the energy for a response. 

‘Who asked you, Edwards?’ retorted Thea. ‘He’s right though,’ she added quietly, when Edwards turned back around. ‘You know we’re only as good as each other.’

’This whole “we’re a team” bullshit might actually work on me if we had any kind of team spirit,’ Jean pointed out sourly. ‘Everyone on this damn team is out for number one.’

Thea shook her head in amazement. ‘You’ve been spending too much time with the Trojans,’ she accused. Jean didn’t bother trying to deny that one.

Outside, the private parking lot was mostly empty with just a few scattered cars, and Thea started walking towards hers. Jean followed her only because it was on the way to the exit. 

‘Get in,’ she told him, frowning as he made to pass the car. 

‘I’ve already got a ride,’ he explained, scooting around the barrier and rounding the corner. 

Jeremy’s Audi was parked half way down the street. He got out of the car as soon as he saw Jean, face impassive. 

‘Christ, what is he doing here?’ muttered Thea, and Jean shot her an annoyed look.

‘What do you think?’ he returned. ‘He’s my ride.’

Jeremy didn’t approach; he watched Thea carefully but let them fight in peace. 

‘At some point you need to back off from him,’ Thea said. ‘Like, I know I kind of encouraged this for monetary gain but I didn’t think you’d be moving in together within a week.’

‘That’s not what’s happening,’ Jean said lightly. 

‘Riko’s going to kill him.’

‘Riko can try,’ said Jean. 

Thea frowned at him. ‘What is your deal lately? You’re acting very … un-you.’

Jean tried not to let the implication that he was usually a doormat get to him. 

‘Maybe he brings it out in me,’ he said thoughtfully, looking at Jeremy, who was looking at his phone and trying not to eavesdrop. 

As though he sensed Jean looking at him he glanced up, and his lips curved up into a smile to mirror Jean’s, like they couldn’t help it. Thea made a noise of exasperation as Jean immediately left her side to go to him. 

He paused in front of Jeremy just long enough to press a brief kiss to his lips in greeting - too brief, Jean always wanted more - before getting into the passenger side. 

‘She mad?’ Jeremy asked, getting in beside him and buckling his seatbelt.  

‘Oh yeah,’ Jean said, settling into the seat with a sigh. He was exhausted. ‘Riko didn’t show.’

Jeremy raised his eyebrows in surprise before turning back to the road. ‘Shit, really? That’s - ’

‘Out of character, yeah,’ Jean agreed. ‘Or it is to anyone outside looking in.’

‘So what did you do all day?’ Jeremy asked. Jean liked watching him drive. In all things Jeremy was in control, driving no exception. He had an easy but firm grip on the wheel, the other on the gearstick, his body relaxed yet powerful. Jean drank in his profile, feeling more settled by the minute. 

‘Same old,’ Jean replied, shifting around into a more comfortable sitting position. ‘Tetsuji was not happy; he worked us like dogs.’

Jeremy looked at him quickly. ‘What?’

‘He didn’t actually speak to me about it,’ Jean added. ‘But he’s furious. No one misses practise. The team was annoyed, and I fell down a lot because it’s like the wound makes me lean or something? It was - ’

‘Jean,’ Jeremy interrupted, sounding horrified. ‘Did you train?’

Maybe the pain and exhaustion had him slightly addled, because Jean didn’t immediately understand the tone. ‘Yeah, what …?’

Jeremy didn’t look so in control now. ‘Jean - are you kidding me? Are you insane?’

‘Uh …’ Sometimes Jean couldn’t immediately remember the right words in English, particularly when he was flustered. He had a feeling this is why he apparently spoke French in bed, but French wouldn’t help him now.

‘Jean, you were stabbed less than 24 hours ago!’ Jeremy sounded incredulous. ‘Why would you - are you ok?’

Jean was taken aback; his hand strayed to his side again.

‘Yeah I’m - I’m fine,’ he stammered. ‘I mean it bled a little but that happens, I mean - ‘

‘No it doesn’t,’ Jeremy insisted. ‘It shouldn’t, Jean, are you serious? Why would you train, didn’t you tell them what happened?’

It occurred to Jean then just how far removed the Raven sphere was from the Trojan one. 

‘Jeremy, I …’ He couldn’t figure out where to start. His hand felt hot.

‘What?’ Jeremy snapped.

Jean sighed. ‘I’m bleeding,’ he admitted. 

Jeremy took a quick second to check his mirrors before pulling a fast U-turn.

‘Where we going?’ Jean asked, feeling dizzy. 

‘The court,’ Jeremy said tightly.

‘Ok. Whose?’

Jeremy glanced at him. ‘Ours,’ he said.

 

The Trojan parking lot was quiet when they pulled up, just a few cars and some security vans. 

‘I suppose a hospital is out of the question?’ Jeremy sighed as he helped Jean out of the car.

‘Cute _and_ smart,’ Jean remarked, leaning on him. He’d already expressed a strong opinion on doing exactly the opposite of this, but Jeremy was immovable. He said that Abby and the Foxhole Court were too far away and bringing him back to Evermore was clearly useless. Jeremy’s anger was a strange thing; Jean felt like he was more upset with him than anything else, kind of like how parents in movies said they were “disappointed” instead of angry. And he had that frightened look in his eyes again that Jean was learning to hate, especially when he put it there. 

The Trojan doctor looked startled to see their captain half-carrying a Raven backliner into his office, but he quickly jumped into comforting professionalism.

‘This dressing is neat,’ he remarked. ‘I presume you were admitted?’

‘Uh, sure,’ Jean said, glancing briefly at Jeremy. 

‘We were nearby when his stitches ripped,’ he said. He was leaning against the doctor’s desk with his arms folded. ‘Seemed quicker than going all the way back.’

‘When were you discharged?’

‘This morning,’ said Jean. Technically that was true. 

The doctor frowned, finishing the last of the new stitches. ‘Well, you probably shouldn’t have been, but I know how hard it is to keep athletes in bed.’

Jean glanced over his head at Jeremy and quirked an eyebrow suggestively. Jeremy looked away, but his lips twitched. 

‘There. You’re exhausted,’ the doctor proclaimed, standing up. ‘You need bed rest, and lots of it. No sit-ups, no stretching, no sex.’

Jean blinked. ‘Excuse me?’

‘For how long?’ Jeremy asked, then winced and put a hand to his forehead. Jean bit his lip to smother a laugh.

‘Few days,’ the doctor said, who thankfully hadn’t noticed. ‘The wound isn’t too bad, but you keep ripping those stitches and you’re gonna have a problem. Longer recovery time, more bench time.’

Jean definitely couldn’t afford that. 

‘Got it,’ he said. ‘None of…those things.’

The doctor took off his gloves and dropped them in a waste bin. ‘Ok, they give you anything for the pain?’

Jean examined the blood under his nails. ‘They must have forgotten.’

The doctor eyed him, then glanced behind at Jeremy, who shook his head. 

‘Ok, I can write you up something I’d give to one of mine,’ he said cautiously. ‘Any allergies?’

‘No.’

‘Alright then. Stay there, don’t move.’ He pointed a finger sternly at Jean. Then it was just the two of them.

Jeremy seemed ok with examining his fingernails, but Jean had some things to explain.

‘Jeremy,’ he began, but Jeremy held up his hand. 

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t say my name like that.’

‘Like what?’

Jeremy ran a hand through his hair. ‘Like you’re apologising again,’ he said. ‘It’s not your fault you got hurt, ok?’

‘Actually it is my fault,’ Jean corrected him, ‘but that’s not what I was going to say.’

Jeremy raised his eyebrows skeptically. ‘Ok, what were you gonna say?’

Jean hesitated. Jeremy was clearly wound up, and god he just wanted to take him in his arms but he could hardly hop off the exam table without help. He needed Jeremy to understand. He needed at least one person who understood. 

‘I didn’t train today because I wanted to,’ he said slowly. ‘If I pulled a hamstring or did my groin then yeah, sure, I’d be off the court. But stuff like this?’ He gestured to his side. ‘My fault, my problem. If I tried to sit out I’d be dragged on to the court.’

Jeremy went very still. ‘Jean,’ he said, voice heavy. ‘That’s …’

‘I know,’ Jean said, quietly. Just another thing he wasn’t in the habit of bemoaning, because it was never going to change. ‘It was worse in the early days. Riko used to break my fingers - or make me break them - and I’d have to play anyways.’

Jeremy looked appalled. ‘And everyone knows? Your teammates?’

Jean shrugged. ‘It’s different at Evermore,’ he said quietly. ‘We’re not friends. We don’t hang out. All anyone cares about is winning.’

‘And how are you gonna win if you’re getting hospitalised?’ Jeremy demanded. 

‘This is what consequences look like,’ Jean said. ‘Tetsuji once told me I couldn’t be rewarded for pissing Riko off, or I’d do it all the time just to get away from him.’ He hadn’t used those exact words, though.

Jeremy put his hands on his head then ran them down over his face. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he muttered, shoulders slumped. ‘I can’t believe what I’m hearing.’

’This is just between us,’ Jean reminded him quietly. ‘Ok? Hey.’ Jeremy looked up at him, eyes bright. ‘Come here.’

Jeremy sighed but came over to where Jean was sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the exam table. Jean pulled him in between them and wrapped his arms around his slim waist. Jeremy put his hands on Jean’s neck and gazed at him sadly, and Jean’s heart thudded painfully as he gazed back. 

‘I won’t tell anyone,’ Jeremy said softly. ‘Promise.’

Jean nodded. ‘I know you won’t,’ he said. ‘Listen, it’s not that bad. Riko’s probably sleeping it off somewhere, he’ll come back and Tetsuji will beat him to hell and back, and that will shut him up for a few months, so we’ll make it to the end of the season all right.’

Jeremy nodded, stroking Jean’s cheek with the back of his finger. He still looked unhappy, but Jeremy could never stay mad at him for long. ’And after that?’ 

The playful tone in his voice made Jean’s heart soar. 

‘After that … we’ve got the whole summer. We could go away together, just you and me.’

Jeremy smiled. ‘Just you and me, huh? That sounds pretty good.’ He leaned into Jean, without actually putting any weight on him. Truly this man was too good for Jean. 

Jean nodded. ‘Just you and me,’ he agreed, brushing their noses together. ‘We can just disappear. Some place hot, with a beach.’

‘And a nice hotel room that we never have to leave.’

Jean laughed against his lips, and then they were kissing. God, he was so warm in his arms, his body so firm but yielding to his every touch. Jean squeezed with thighs, keeping him close, and deepened the kiss, needing to be closer. Jeremy was unbearably gentle with him, each kiss so tender and loving that Jean thought his heart would burst. 

‘God, you drive me crazy,’ Jeremy breathed against his lips. ‘You scared me so badly, I’m still mad at you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Jean said, rubbing his back. ‘I really am. I hate that you have to see this side of my life.’

Jeremy pulled back slightly, holding his face. The warmth in his brown eyes seemed to sear Jean’s heart, filling him up with light. 

‘I’m glad I know,’ he said, unexpectedly. ‘Because it’s a part of you, Jean. And I want to know all of you. I want every bit of you. Unconditionally. Ok?’

He thinks he has to ask, thought Jean in a daze. In lieu of an answer he just kissed him again, trying to convey in that kiss what he could never manage in any language. 

‘Come on, what did I just say?’ 

The doctor’s voice had them jumping apart, but Jeremy didn’t go too far; Jean kept his legs locked around him, because he couldn’t quite bear being apart from him right now. 

‘We heard you,’ he said calmly, because Jeremy was flustered. It was _very_ cute. 

‘Um, Doc - I mean, we were just - ’

‘Well I guess it makes sense now why you two were hanging out,’ the doctor said wryly, handing Jean a prescription. ‘Don’t worry, it’s none of my business what you do. And you are neither my patient nor my athlete,’ he said levelling a stern gaze at Jean. ‘But you need to take it easy. I don’t want Paul Moore or Tetsuji Moriyama breathing down my neck because I didn’t march you straight back to Evermore.’ His eyes scanned Jean’s exhausted figure carefully. ‘You don’t look well, Jean,’ he admitted finally. ‘Your body is stressed, and you have more than a few still-healing bruises. Exy’s a rough sport but I know my bruises, and those were not made by body checks.’

Jean didn’t say anything. Jeremy glanced between the two of them, then said ‘I’ll make sure he rests, Doc.’

The doctor eyed him. ‘You too, Knox,’ he said. ‘You weren’t yourself today. Guess now I know why. You both need to sleep.’

Jean couldn’t argue with that. They stopped off on the way to pick up Jean’s meds but other than that Jeremy drove them straight to Jean’s house. Roux tackled him before he was halfway through the door.

‘I didn’t know cats could make so much noise,’ Jeremy said. Jean stroked her fur and let her head butt his face. ‘There’s no need to shout,’ he told her. She bit his ear in response.’

Jean was mildly gratified in being able to walk up the stairs under his own steam, but thought mournfully of how he’d chased Jeremy up them not so long ago. 

‘I presume you won’t have to train tomorrow?’ Jeremy asked, as Jean undressed half-heartedly. 

‘I can skip the gym since none of the coaches will be there,’ Jean said. ‘And we train pre-game so I can get out of that too.’

‘Good,’ Jeremy grunted, drawing the curtains. Jean looked over at him. 

‘You have to go?’ he asked quietly. Jeremy sighed. 

‘I should,’ he said. ‘I called home on lunch to see Buttercup but I’ve been neglecting her and it’s not good for her. And I’ve kind of been neglecting my friends too. Supposed to be having dinner with some people tonight.’ He shrugged like it was no big deal, but Jean knew how important friends were to him. 

‘Go,’ he said, picking up a sweater idly and putting them on his desk chair. ‘I’ll just be sleeping anyways. You’ve spent way too much time picking up after me lately.’

‘Jean,’ said Jeremy softly. 

‘I’m serious,’ Jean said, throwing a half-smile over his shoulder at him. ‘I was thinking of coming to your game tomorrow, actually. Tetsuji’s banned me from the stadium. Said it’ll distract people from the game.’

This didn’t bother Jean overly - he’d only be twitching in frustration on the bench - but it clearly got to Jeremy.

‘As if it’s possible to distract a Raven fan from Exy,’ he snorted. ‘Even if the distraction is exceptionally handsome.’

‘So can I come watch you play, then?’

Jeremy smiled at him. ‘I’ll leave your name at the door,’ he said softly. He put his arms around Jean’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss, and it felt like goodbye but Jean knew it wasn’t for long. 

‘There’s a spare key under the eaves,’ Jean said between kisses. ‘In case I’m too drugged up to let you in, whenever.’ Jeremy smiled against his lips in answer, and that was better than any painkiller.

 

Jean was too romantic. Painkillers were _awesome_. They knocked him out immediately and he woke up ten hours later feeling sleepy but almost pain free before he started moving. 

He shifted slightly in the bed and was shocked to realise he hadn’t immediately noticed Jeremy beside him. It was 3am, and the warmth of his skin and his deep breathing meant he’d been asleep for a while. He was wearing a white t-shirt - it was almost all Jean could see in the darkness of the room - and as Jean moved, Jeremy murmured slightly and made a little move towards him. 

He’d gone home, gone out, and come back. Let himself in and climbed into bed beside Jean, and they were going to wake up together again. He was deeply asleep, lying on his own side of the bed, one hand across his chest and the other above his head. He literally sleeps like a baby, Jean thought, feeling unbearably fond. He would have kept staring right through the night if he hadn’t passed out again almost immediately. 

 

Game days meant a slightly different schedule, but Jeremy was still up at 8 to go home and walk Buttercup. He pressed a kiss to Jean’s forehead and forced him to take more meds before leaving, but they didn’t knock him out this time. Jean dozed for an hour or so until Jeremy came back, coming fully awake when he heard the front door close. 

Once he was safely back in bed, Jean rolled over on his side to face him. 

‘So, what did you get up to yesterday?’

Jeremy told him about going for dinner with some of his teammates, then to a bar for drinks. He kept fidgeting with the gauze on his knuckles, so Jean took his hand and held it to keep him from picking at it. 

‘Speaking of,’ Jeremy said, sounding uncomfortable. ‘They gave me hell for hitting Kevin. I’m in so much trouble.’

Jean snorted. ‘I can’t believe you hit _Kevin._ I mean, we’ve all thought about it - and I’ve come close - but you actually _went there -_ ‘

‘Stop,’ groaned Jeremy, snatching his hand back and burying his face in the pillow. ‘I feel terrible. It wasn’t the right thing to do.’

‘Maybe I bring it out in you,’ Jean mused. He wasn’t really being serious, but Jeremy turned his head to look at him.

‘No,’ he said, sounding scandalised. ‘It was Kevin’s fault, and mine.’

A startled laugh burst from Jean’s lips.

‘It was!’ insisted Jeremy. ‘You didn’t hear what he was saying - ‘

‘Trust me, I probably have.’

’I’ve never gone for anyone like that before,’ Jeremy said, sounding amazed. He shook his head, half raised up on his elbows and staring at the pillow. ‘And I’ve hear the press say some mean things.’ He paused, glancing over at Jean. ‘Maybe you do bring it out in me,’ he said quietly. 

Jean raised an eyebrow.

‘Not the violence,’ Jeremy said quickly. ‘I mean - you’re just really important to me. And I never …’ 

He trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed. 

Jean spent about five seconds figuring that out, then he was pushing Jeremy over on to his back and climbing on top of him and kissing him senseless. The movement hurt a bit but only because the skin was tight and healing. He could deal with that any day of the week; nothing could have stopped him from kissing Jeremy right then.

‘I have to get ready for practise,’ Jeremy said breathlessly, hands clutching at Jean’s arms. 

‘You can be late,’ Jean replied before moving down to his neck.

‘You’re not supposed to have sex.’

‘Don’t care.’

‘I - ‘

‘Jeremy.’

Jean leaned right in, with one hand on Jeremy’s face and the other braced against the bed. He was feeling slightly wild, the events of the previous few days finally catching up to him and narrowing right down into one bottom line of: Jeremy hit Kevin because he couldn’t stand hearing him badmouth Jean. The patron saint of rules and good behaviour punched his idol straight in his perfect teeth because of how he felt about Jean. It was so bizarrely out of character for everything he knew about Jeremy Knox - at least, everything he’d ever been told. 

Because the Jeremy he knew was passionate and opinionated and strong, and now he was telling him that he’d just never had a good enough reason to hit anyone before. 

Jean felt like the two of them had gone through more than any couple’s fair share of stress in the first few weeks of their relationship, and yet somehow they still wanted more of each other. Jean had very few bright stars in his life, and none of them tugged on his heart and made him want to give up everything for just a few seconds of his smile like Jeremy did. 

‘Jeremy,’ he said again, enjoying the way it sounded. He stroked his cheek and ran his thumb across his lips. ’Je t’aime.’

Because his thumb was on Jeremy’s lips he felt his breath hitch and drag in. He shivered - Jean felt it against his skin - and then he was surging up to kiss him, so deeply and desperately that it seared straight into Jean’s heart, not unlike how Jeremy’s smile did on any given day, but worse, so much worse that Jean could hardly breathe. 

Jeremy put a hand on the back of Jean’s head and crushed their mouths together, kissing him like he’d never get another chance. 

Carefully, with one arm wrapped firmly around his body, Jeremy flipped them. He sat up and stripped off his shirt, and Jean had to fight the pain in his side so he could sit up and kiss his gorgeous chest. 

‘Hey,’ whispered Jeremy, leaning down. ‘I can come to you.’

He shuddered and moaned deliciously as Jean sucked on his nipples, but as distracted as he was Jean didn’t miss his hand reaching around. 

‘Where’s the - ’

‘Dresser,’ said Jean, reaching out blindly for the lube. 

The heat between them built. Jeremy kept one hand flat on Jean’s chest as he reached behind to guide himself down on to his cock. His pupils were blown and his face dark with arousal as he gazed down at Jean, mouth falling open as he stretched himself open. 

Sweat trickled down Jeremy’s chest as he moved. Jean’s hands were tight on his hips, that tight heat squeezing his brain as much as his dick. 

Jean couldn’t stand the space between them. He hardly noticed the pain in his abdomen as he forced himself up, suddenly nose to nose with Jeremy. 

‘No sit-ups,’ Jeremy reminded him with some difficulty. Jean kissed him in response. 

Jeremy sat deep in his lap and they moved together, arms pulling each other closer. The contact was so close and deep that the awkward angle didn’t mean anything. Jean lifted him slightly and thrust up, biting at Jeremy’s neck as he sought that sweet spot that would make him get loud. 

Jeremy was, naturally, determined to find that spot all by himself. He ground down, rolling his hips and thrusting back down on to Jean’s dick. His breaths came punched out with every thrust as Jean buried himself in him and they clung to each other, moans breaking on lip and neck and shoulder. 

‘I love you,’ Jeremy breathed, fingers digging into Jean’s hair, mouth dragging across his lips. ‘God, I love you.’

The words spilled from Jean’s mouth too, in English and in French, but he couldn’t hear them over the roar in his head and the pounding of his heart and Jeremy’s hoarse cries as he shot his load between their bodies, clenching hard around Jean’s dick until he came too, so hard his vision became a bright mess of stars.

Jean fell back, exhausted. Jeremy fell too, supporting his weight just in time. They breathed raggedly into each other’s mouths as they came down, and their words echoed in the space between them. 

Jean could feel it, as real as any wound. The shell around his heart had shattered inside him into useless pieces, cutting him open. It was the best pain, a fire in his veins and electricity dancing across his skin and all the other cliches he’d ever heard to describe love except now they weren’t cliches, they were raw and unreal and more consuming than anything he’d ever felt. He might have called it post-orgasm bliss if he hadn’t been feeling it for days, in the smallest moments, captured by Jeremy’s smile and a lingering touch that meant nothing and everything. 

He saw it in Jeremy’s eyes and felt it in the heartbeat pressed against his chest. 

They lay in each other’s arms, too wired to doze. Jean was determined to memorise every detail of Jeremy’s face - it seemed like a very good way to pass the time. Every so often Jeremy would tell him he loved him, and Jean would kiss him and tell him that he loved him too, and Jean hardly recognised the person he’d become. It thrilled him. 

‘What are you gonna do today?’ Jeremy asked, as Jean kissed his neck. 

‘Hadn’t thought too far ahead,’ Jean admitted, pausing just to answer before tracing over fading bruises on Jeremy’s collarbone with his tongue. Jeremy shivered and pulled him a little closer. 

‘Well if you don’t have plans … I was thinking we could go see Kevin before the game.’

Jean pulled back to look Jeremy in the eye. ‘What?’

Jeremy didn’t even bother to look guilty. ‘Please,’ he said seriously. ‘I have to apologise.’

‘I thought you said it was his fault?’

‘He was out of line,’ Jeremy said. ‘But that doesn’t mean I should have hit him.’

Jean leaned back, letting his eyes rake over Jeremy thoughtfully. ‘He doesn’t deserve it, you know,’ he said. ‘An apology. Kevin says shit like that all the time and never considers anyone else’s feelings.’

Jeremy tapped Jean’s chin. ‘I’m not Kevin,’ he said. ‘And he’s your friend.’

Jean studied his face, wondering how Jeremy could be his and still remain such a good person. ‘It’d take a lot more than one punch from a sweetheart like you to break Kevin and I,’ he admitted softly, kissing the knuckles in question. ‘I bet you didn’t even break the skin.’

‘Did so.’

‘ _His_ skin.’

Jeremy pressed a kiss to his lips to shut him up.

It turned out Jeremy actually did break the skin. Kevin’s lip was swollen, but it looked better than the scowl on his face. 

’Easy,’ Jean murmured.

‘Andrew’s out for your blood,’ Kevin said, pointing at Jeremy from across the kitchen island where Thea was loudly blending pre-game smoothies. The two of them rarely shut off - Jean knew that whenever the Ravens had to play the Foxes, Kevin and Thea flipped for who had to move out for the days leading up to the game. 

‘Please.’ Jean rolled his eyes. ‘Tell me it’s affected your game even one little bit.’ Andrew only cared if Neil cared, and Jean had Neil’s number. 

But Jeremy laid a hand on Jean’s arm. ‘Kevin,’ he said loudly over the racket. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you.’

Thea snapped off the blender and glared at Jean. ‘Riko’s still missing,’ she said, as though Jeremy hadn’t spoken. ‘He wasn’t at weights this morning. Since you’re banned from the stadium maybe you could do us all a favour and find him before we lose the game.’

‘Don’t pretend like we don’t play better without him,’ Jean said quietly. 

‘Not the point,’ Thea said, stabbing a finger at him. ‘We’re down two players, our style of play has to change to compensate, and that leaves us exposed.’

‘Riko did that all by himself,’ Jeremy pointed out. 

‘Why are you here again?’

‘Thea.’ Jean straightened, bristling. ‘Back off.’

Thea shot a poisonous glare at him before turning to rinse the blender off loudly in the sink. Kevin eyed her carefully before beckoning to the two of them to follow him.

Standing on the deck in their back yard, Kevin let Jeremy apologise until both of them were satisfied and Jean was thoroughly amused. Kevin still admired Jeremy so much that he was slightly starstruck and nodded at all the wrong times. Jeremy somehow managed to give Kevin a stern telling off even as he apologised; when he was through, Jean couldn’t help slipping an arm around his waist and kissing his temple. 

‘Thea’s right,’ Kevin said eventually. ‘You do need to find Riko.’

Jean felt Jeremy tense slightly against his arm but he kept quiet. 

‘I know,’ Jean admitted unwillingly. He met Kevin’s eyes and silently acknowledged the fact that Riko still controlled them. The Foxhole Court was never going to be far enough for Kevin. ‘I’ll find him.’

‘You know he’d never willingly miss a game.’

‘I know.’

‘Jean.’ Kevin held his gaze. ‘This is getting out of hand. You need to fix it.’

Jean fought the urge to tell Kevin to get fucked. 

‘Relax, Kevin,’ he said. ‘You’re a Fox now. Leave the Ravens to me.’

He turned to go and Jeremy followed him. He focused on that until he got to the car, not on Kevin’s offended silence or Thea’s stony looks. 

Jeremy’s hand rested on Jean’s which had balled itself into a fist. 

‘It’s ok,’ he murmured, kissing his shoulder. ‘We’ll figure it out.’

Unfortunately, there could be no we in this. 

Jeremy had a light afternoon training session and some errands to run before the game. It was a vaguely unpleasant reminder that Jeremy had a life that he enthusiastically led, but Jean supposed if one of them had the potential to be late for future date it was definitely him. Especially if he couldn’t find Riko.

He looked everywhere. He trawled the city, poking his head into every bar, every strip club, every overpriced restaurant that he’d ever met a dealer for Riko in, because that was the only thing that could be keeping Riko from Evermore. He couldn’t play without his drugs, so he wouldn’t play without his drugs. Jean’s brain spun all the potential outcomes; Riko failing to find a supply, knocking himself out instead or staging a mugging, anything to delay his return to the court until his sobriety was no more. 

Three hours yielded no results but an empty gas tank and general exhaustion. Jean kept Thea updated via text, who in turn informed the striker coach, who then informed Tetsuji. The Ravens were nothing if not hierarchical, but Jean had a feeling that if he didn’t produce Riko before the game he’d be getting a lot more familiar with the Master than he ever wanted to be.

The day wore on, and Jean started to panic a little. He was down to checking for Riko’s alias at random hotels across the city, and thumbed through the coded list of sketchy numbers in his phone as he sat in traffic. 

He got a text from Jeremy about an hour before first serve. _Don’t worry about the game. Find me when you can xxx_

Jean flung his phone into the passenger seat and immediately turned his car around. He had just enough time to get home and change and feed the cat, and made it to the Trojan court as the teams were walking out. 

The VIP lounge contained a few Trojan family members who left him alone, and a few celebrities and scouting staff from other teams who did not. Jean shook hands and explained that he was checking out the competition on Tetsuji’s orders - chuckles all around - and tried to keep an eye on the game. 

Even without the big screen and the numbered jerseys, he would have known Jeremy just by the way he moved. How had he studied him as a rival player for years and not been hypnotised by his body, his speed and grace and intelligent style of play. He hardly noticed the score, though the Trojans held the court for all of the first half. Jean hid in the bathroom during half time and spent the second half making very quiet calls in the corner because Jeremy was on the bench.

They put him on again for the last ten minutes because the point gap had dropped to three, and the difference their captain made to the Trojans and to the fans was palpable. Jean listened to the Exy enthusiasts and professionals around him speak Jeremy’s name with something like reverence, and even though the call that came right on the full time whistle was like a building collapsing around him, Jean couldn’t leave the stadium without seeing him.

Jeremy usually did press after a game - probably didn’t even have to be asked - but Jean knew what would happen if he got caught on camera backstage at a Trojan’s game while he was meant to be looking for Riko. Instead he waited in the lounge toilets until Jeremy checked his phone. Not the most glamorous of meeting places.

When Jeremy poked his head around the bathroom door about ten minutes later he was wearing his shorts and the red under armour he usually wore under his uniform, the tight long sleeves still clinging to his arms with sweat. Had Jean never seen him directly post-game with his helmet off? He wore a bandana in his hair to keep it off his face. Unbelievable.

‘Hey.’ Jeremy pushed through the door, already grinning. ‘You actually came? What did you think? Did you see Alvarez _floor_ their striker at the end?’

‘Felt it,’ replied Jean, smiling helplessly at him. ‘She’s tough.’

‘Almost as tough as you,’ Jeremy said, reaching him and looping his arms around his neck. This was so familiar to Jean by now that he immediately felt more settled, even if anxiety continued to claw a hole in his chest. 

‘You were great,’ Jean said, kissing him. He pulled him close by his hips, so used to sweaty athlete smell that he hardly noticed it, and kissed him again. Jeremy leaned into it, his body so hard and firm and pleasing, and they enjoyed the quiet moment together. 

‘So what’s going on?’ Jeremy asked finally. He pulled back to look at Jean but stayed in his arms. Jean was beyond grateful for the comfort. 

‘Think I found him,’ Jean said quietly. He avoiding looking Jeremy in the eye; he stared at his lips instead. 

Jeremy raised his eyebrows. ‘Already? Is he ok?’

And he actually sounded genuinely concerned, goddamn.

Jean shrugged. ‘Haven’t seen him yet. Just got the call at the end of the game.’

Jeremy blinked. ‘Wait - then what are you still doing here?’

Jean brushed their noses together. ‘Trying to get rid of me?’ he teased. 

‘Just - do you not really need to find him? Like, immediately?’

Jean thought about it, and despite everything he really couldn’t bring himself to care more about Riko than he did about Jeremy. 

‘I guess I do,’ he said, then kissed Jeremy again. ‘But you tend to fuck up my priorities.’

Jeremy frowned until he followed up with, ‘I’m ok with it.’

They made out for longer than either of them probably should have. Leaving Jeremy meant Jean had to deal with the unpleasant sensation of dread that had settled deep in his chest, which seemed to be so much worse when he was alone. 

The drive across town was hideous. He hit every red light, and with every pause in the journey his chest got tighter and his feet got colder.

Mike was waiting in the alley down the side of the decrepit building. It was in the worst part of town; not even a particularly dangerous one, just sad.

‘What the fuck took you so long?’ Mike hissed, looking stressed out of his mind. He was twisting a beanie hat in his grimy hands and wearing his hood so far up Jean could hardly see his eyes. 

‘I was in the middle of something,’ Jean muttered. ‘Where is he?’

The stairs creaked beneath their feet. The whole building smelled like a swamp. Bodies moved sluggishly in dim rooms that Jean did not care to look to closely at, but no amount of single-mindedness could block out the weak cries and moans that were the soundtrack to this shit show. 

‘So how conscious was he?’ Jean muttered as he picked his way cautiously up the last flight of stairs. 

‘Uh.’ Mike sounded vague. ‘Not very.’

‘He was out cold?’

‘Pretty much.’

Jean paused. ‘He was breathing though, right?’

‘Do I look like a doctor?’

Jean shoved him out of the way, limbs shaking.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he said hoarsely, ignoring Mike’s complaints. He pounded down the hall to the only door and tried the handle. 

‘It’s locked,’ grumbled Mike. ‘I have the key.’

Jean didn’t bother to wait. He threw his shoulder against the door and broke it clean off its hinges.

Later, Jean would wonder why he was so calm. Logically, Riko lying dead in a pool of his own vomit would spell the ultimate catastrophe for someone whose life was bound so intricately to his. The first call he made was to Tetsuji - the first and only time he’d ever be allowed to call him directly. The conversation was brief, with a long silence in between. Sirens announced themselves shortly afterwards. 

Mike beat it immediately but Jean had to wait. The broken door leant itself to his story; a key would have looked suspicious, like he’d locked Riko in.

_‘How did you know he was here?’_

‘Find my iPhone.’

_‘How long has he been missing?’_

‘Two days.’

_‘Can anyone account for your whereabouts for the last two days?’_

‘Yes.’

Jeremy, Thea, Paul Moore. Jean was in the clear for now, but when they started investigating the cause of death he might not be. Dealers were generally good for not rolling on their clients if they ever wanted to sell again, but Riko wasn’t the most likeable person and he was dead already, wasn’t he? Jean caught a ride to the station with one of the officers to give his statement, and when one of the policewomen commented that he was trembling and was probably in shock, if there was anyone they could call, it took everything in his power not to give her Jeremy’s number. He couldn’t allow any of this to touch him.

He called Renee instead, and experienced some level of guilt for only calling her when he was in trouble. 

‘Don’t worry, I’m saving up the favours for something big,’ she said, pulling him into a hug. She was so tiny, but somehow managed to put so much comfort into the hug that Jean almost broke. 

Jean had been instructed not to leave town, which was fine since Tetsuji would probably break his kneecaps anyway. He spent the night on Renee’s couch, texting Jeremy and trying not to have a panic attack. 

_I can come over._

**You need to sleep in your own bed for once.**

_Then you come over here._

**_Don’t have my car_ ** _._

Damn. It was still parked outside that building. Jean guessed he could kiss those sweet parts goodbye. 

_I’ll come get you._

**You’re exhausted.**

_You’re making excuses. It’s ok if you want to be by yourself._

Jean really, really didn’t.

**That’s not it.**

_I’m just here for you. Whatever you need._

Jean bit his lip and pressed the cold screen of his phone against his forehead.

 **I love you**.

_I love you too._

 

\- Nine months later -

 

Jean still found it strange that he could catch himself smiling during practise. A good shot or someone really pushing themselves to be better and he’d feel it tugging at his lips. He was enjoying Exy again. Yeah, he was still getting used to that.

Their new coach was a Moriyama, and they only saw him at games for the most part, but the coaching staff weren’t as interested in running their players into the ground now that they didn’t have someone running _them_ into the ground. It had taken some getting used to - Thea still looked ready for a fight any time she got called out on the court, and she wasn’t the only one - but for Jean, it felt like the knot of anxiety in his chest loosened with every day. 

Riko was gone. 

It had been nothing short of scandalous, and Kevin had insisted that Jean remain in the spotlight and not hide himself away like he’d wanted to. Just in case. 

He still found it strange that Tetsuji had been blamed for Riko’s disintegration. A failure to coach him properly, or be a better mentor - the press had had a field day when the drug use had come out, and the Ravens had barely been allowed to finish the season. The police decided on death by accidental overdose but the ERC had come down hard on the Ravens. They were still doing random urine tests every two weeks on half the squad. Tetsuji had been withdrawn back into the Moriyama family and was replaced with another ex-Raven who didn’t care who anyone was, so long as they went out and did their jobs. That suited everyone just fine, or it would eventually. Practise was still hard, but no one was flinching or getting beat around the shins. Everything else, they could work with.

They had two more games left in the season, and the points were tied up at the top between the Foxes and the Trojans. The Ravens had slipped down to fourth - their worst standing since the conception of Exy. Jean considered the whole season a write off; he’d been out for an additional two weeks after Riko had knifed him because of a stupid infection he’d picked up, and then Thea had missed six weeks with a hamstring injury. She’d become utterly insufferable; Kevin had had to move in with Jean for almost the entire time she was gone. To both of their surprise, it had been just like old times. They only tried to kill each other twice, and both times had been Jeremy-related.

Two more weeks, Jean thought, as he got into his car. Two more weeks and then he could get out of this city, away from the press and the fans and every goddamn memorial to Riko Moriyama.

He usually went to Jeremy’s house after practise, or if they were busy Jeremy would come to his in the evenings. It was better for Buttercup, and Roux slept during the day anyways. Thea teased him about being more domestic than her and Kevin and Jean wasn’t even bothered to argue. He’d spent a few weeks worrying that Jeremy would start missing his actual life, hanging out with all his friends constantly instead of spending every other night with Jean. But he knew by now that Jeremy was extremely strong-willed. He’d objected immediately and at length to Kevin living with Jean; it had been their first and only real fight. Jeremy had, without raising his voice once, called Kevin an extremely talented player and a good person at heart, but said that he was also a terribly bad influence on Jean and had and a single-minded obsession with his career that wasn’t healthy on any level. 

It had put Jean at a bit of a crossroads. Kevin had already been kicked out of Neil and Andrew’s place for reasons none of them would divulge, and Jean had spent too long having Kevin’s back not to let him crash with him for a few weeks. Kevin could have gotten a hotel, but Jean didn’t even suggest it. He knew how badly Kevin did on his own.

‘Kevin’s more vulnerable than you think,’ he’d told Jeremy, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘I’m his friend, I don’t want to say no.’

‘I know you don’t,’ Jeremy had said, patience frayed in a way Jean had hardly seen before. ‘I’m just concerned about what kind of memories a closed environment between the two of you might caused to resurface.’

‘What, you mean …?’

He’d told Jeremy about him and Kevin. How it hadn’t meant anything, how it had been a desperate attempt at survival when Riko had been at his worst. It had only happened once, and hadn’t been worth it. Jeremy had never asked again.

Jeremy had sighed. ‘I don’t mean that,’ he’d said. ‘But you two have a lot of history,’ he’d said. ‘And it’s only been a few months.’

It occurred to Jean then that Jeremy was still waiting for Jean to snap. To be fair, so was Jean. There’d been so much press and commotion in the weeks after Riko’s death that he’d hardly been left alone long enough to contemplate how it was, indirectly or not, completely his fault that Riko was dead, and that he was having trouble feeling sorry about any of it. He was more concerned with what Jeremy thought of him than anything else. Certainly more than he cared to be introspective about the whole thing. So the breakdown was postponed, indefinitely, and now he and Jeremy were going to Europe in two weeks to postpone it even further. 

‘Be careful,’ Kevin had warned him one night, the two of them drunk and stargazing in Jean’s back yard. ‘I’ve had mine already, Jean. Yours is in the mail.’

Yeah, Kevin had taken an Exy racquet to Riko’s car, quite publicly. Jean didn’t think that was his style, personally. He didn’t know how he’d deal with it, when it came. If it came. But he had Jeremy, so he’d be fine. 

So Kevin had come and gone, and no one else had died. He’d walked in on Jean and Jeremy twice and almost caused a murder both times, but other than that the whole experience had actually been rather good for them. And Jeremy - sweet, kind-hearted Jeremy - had actually changed his tune about Kevin as soon as he’d moved out. 

‘I guess I was wrong,’ he’d commented, stroking Jean’s chest as he lay in his arms. ‘You two obviously have more positive history than I thought.’

‘I liked having him here,’ Jean murmured, kissing Jeremy’s arms as they encircled him. 

‘I’m glad,’ Jeremy replied. ‘Seems like it was good for you both.’

And he was utterly sincere. That’s what made him so wonderful; he didn’t begrudge Jean anything, even when he might still harbour doubts. He suggested hanging out with Kevin and Thea often (even though Thea was the only person in the entire world who didn’t love Jeremy and was very obvious about this) because he genuinely wanted to get to know them better, and because they were Jean’s friends.  For his part, Jean found himself wanting to socialise more, and be nicer in general to people he hardly knew. It was baffling to him that he now had more numbers in his phone than he’d ever had before, and yeah ok he never actually contacted any of them, but he saw them at parties and didn’t mind talking to them when he did. Even if Jeremy was the only one whose attention he really wanted. 

Jeremy had beaten him home, but not by long. He was still crouched in the hall with Buttercup when Jean walked in, talking cute to her and letting her jump all over him. His eyes flickered to Jean and he smiled that sweet, private smile that made Jean’s heart sing, because it was just for him. He’d been stifled by one person for so long that it was almost strange to now be so attached to someone else, more almost than he’d ever been with Riko, and yet feel so free. 

‘Hey,’ he said, savouring the sight. This wasn’t his house, but this was his home. 

Jeremy followed Buttercup over and kissed him hello, slow and sweet like he was savouring it too.

‘Hi,’ he smiled against his lips. They lounged in each others arms because it still felt so damn good.

‘Two more weeks,’ Jean said, rubbing his back and moving to press his face into Jeremy’s neck, breathing in his shower-fresh skin mingled with the usual, wonderfully familiar scent of his clothes and everything else that was Jeremy. 

Jeremy groaned a little against him. ‘God, I can’t wait,’ he said, turning to kiss Jean’s neck. ‘Just you and me.’ 

Buttercup would be having a month long sleepover at Renee’s, and Kevin was getting Roux. Jean wasn’t even surprised that he and Jean’s prickly little cat had bonded, despite his allergies. She’d fled to Kevin’s room every time Jean had sat down at the piano, which was happening more and more lately, especially when Jeremy sat beside him. Jean played everything by ear, and Jeremy really enjoyed watching his fingers. Sometimes it even got him hard. Jean took very good care of the piano now. 

‘You hungry?’ Jean asked, pulling back a little to look at Jeremy. They’d just come from practise; they should be famished. 

‘Nope,’ Jeremy said lightly, his brown eyes twinkling at him. 

‘Good,’ Jean said, leaning in to kiss him again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://blueandtheboys.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/lazarusthefirst/)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://thetrojeans.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/lazarusthefirst/)


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